I made Alfredo sauce the other night. It tasted pretty good. Despite our sturdy cookware and delightful garlic press, it didn’t taste nearly as wonderful as it used to when I first started making it. Back in the dark ages, when I didn’t know what a garlic press was, much less own one, I minced garlic by hand with a little paring knife, probably the only sharp knife I had.
I fell head over heels in love with Alfredo sauce at a little restaurant called Vera Cruz. It was either in Gulfport or Biloxi, I can’t recall which. I’d gone there for a day trip, renting a catamaran at the beach, for sailing in the warm gulf water, followed by a cheap supper of vegetable crepes with Alfredo sauce.
I was always hungry and perpetually broke back then.