“No.” Alistair snorted. “You must pour slowly so you don’t splash, and you should try to aim for the very center of the glass. Some people prefer to tilt the glass and pour down the side to help aerate the wine, but it’s not necessary.”
“Aerate?”
“Basically it’s exposing the wine to the air, to oxygen, to enhance its flavor and smell. By letting a bit of the alcohol evaporate off through aeration, you’re able to enjoy the true flavor of the wine.”
“Uh-huh.” Noah watched as Alistair carefully picked up the bottle and expertly poured them each a glass. He was confident that if each glass was measured, they’d be exactly five ounces. “And you always pour wine like this?”
“Not always.” Alistair raised his glass, gave it a little swirl, and took a small sip. “Mm, there are certain wines, like old reds, that should be decanted before you drink them.”
“I swear you’re making up these words.”
“I am not, I promise you.” Alistair chuckled. “I actually have a private cellar at Kiss. I’ll have the staff bring us a bottle of a nice vintage red to try. How’s that?”
“Yeah, that could be cool.” Noah took his glass and gave it a healthy swirl, trying to imitate Alistair, and he sipped it slowly. “Still tastes like shit.”
Alistair barked out a laugh. “I suppose it’s an acquired taste, hmm?”
“The taste of shit? Yeah.” Noah tried drinking some more without making a face and failed. “Ugh, yeah, nope. Not a fan.”
“Keep drinking.”
Chapter 15
Noah had tried a lot of different alcohols in his young life, and he could say without a doubt that red wine was the most disgusting thing he’d ever tried. But Alistair had told him to keep drinking, so he would, and he hoped the taste would somehow magically improve if he drank more.
“Is it time to do the dough yet?” Noah chugged the glass back and grinned when Alistair rolled his eyes at him.
“Mm, I suppose.” Alistair set his glass aside with Noah’s by the bottle of wine. “We’ll need flour, a rolling pin, and a sheet pan.”
“I know where none of that is.” Noah stubbornly took the wine bottle and his glass back to refill it. He did so slowly, even attempting to tilt his glass a little to show Alistair he had been listening.
“Flour is back on the counter where we put it up. The rolling pin is in that drawer here, and the sheet pan is under the stove.”
“On it.” Noah gulped back his properly poured wine and set about retrieving all the items.
“Now, sprinkle some flour out on the counter and get your rolling pin. We’re going to start rolling out the dough, and it must be very thin.”
“All right.” Noah generously doused the counter in flour and held up the rolling pin. “Ready!”
“Ah, one moment.” Alistair pulled the dough out of the bowl and set it on the floured counter. He took out a knife from the nearby block and cut the dough into three sections. “Here, it’ll be easier with smaller chunks.”
Noah moved the other two blobs of dough out of his way and smashed the rolling pin into the one that was left, rolling it out in all directions. “Like this?”
“Close enough.” Alistair grinned. “Be patient. Keep rolling it out. If it starts to stick to the pin, add a bit more flour.”
“Got it.” Noah liked when Alistair told him what to do. Not just during sex either, but even like this here in the kitchen was nice.
“That looks good. Now you’re going to roll the sheet into a cylinder like so.” Alistair took the edge of the pasta and neatly rolled it up.
“Like a burrito.”
“Sort of.”
“It looks like a burrito.”
“Fine. You roll it into a burrito.” Alistair took the knife and cut the rolled-up pasta burrito into thin strips. “You cut it crosswise like so, and now we have a nice little pile of pasta.”
Noah picked up one of the strips and watched it unroll into a very familiar shape. “Damn. I’ll be. It’s a noodle!”
