That Bag Of Pasta Is Calling My Name

I have a bag of pasta, leftover spaghetti noodles actually, in my fridge.

I mean, come on, who doesn't?

I was going to use them and the last of the spaghetti sauce in a little leftover dish called "baked spaghetti" but in a terrible twist of fate I thought I was adding a can of plain diced tomatoes to the sauce to build it back up but in fact I dumped in a can of tomatoes and chilies.

Chilies do not go in my spaghetti sauce. And I am not a good enough chef to figure out how to save that lovely sauce turned really odd into something good.

So now I have a bag of pasta in my fridge. And it is loudly calling my name. Every time I open the fridge I hear it.

Take a bite.

You know you love cold noodles.

Don't think about the carbs.

Take a bite!

So far I've resisted. The problem being, the bag is clear, I can see all those lovely noodles stuck in a cold clump and instead of being repulsed, I want.

It's the same part of me that only wants to eat cream of wheat when it is cold and congealed.

I am very picky about meat (don't dare try to give me a piece of chicken with a suspect stringy thing in it) and I don't like onions, tomatoes, or brussel sprouts. But give me cold pasta (or actually any grain) and I am in heaven. To each his own!