Much to my delight, he didn't like their meatballs because as he said, "they were small and hard and they hurt my throat when I ate them".
My spaghetti + meatballs last week was delightful, delicious, and delovely. The meatballs were large and very tasty. And they did not hurt his throat on the way down.
And that, dear friend, is how I spell victory.
Mmm-hm. *balls up fist and digs elbow into side and says in best Napoleon voice, YES!*
I will go ahead and confess this though. Up til yesterday, (ya know, when he got served up the hard meatballs), he was saying mine and theirs were about even, and the only reason mine was a close tie and required any thought at all on his part, i.e. had any merit whatsoever, was on meatball size. I don't know what it is with him. How can something straight from a can even be in the same league as something started from boiling down grape tomatoes in herbs and broth thereby making one's own marinara sauce!! That boy is gonna turn me into Paula Deen.