"Spaghetti with Italian sausage meatballs. Happy Groundhogs Day, everyone."
Mark dished out a large helping with plenty of meatballs and passed it to Napoleon who, in turn, passed it to Illya. April waited until the plate was on the table to offer over the basket of warm garlic bread.
"Mark darling? Would you give me about a quarter of the amount you gave Illya? And four meatballs?"
"Of course, luv. Whatever you want."
Napoleon was in the process of uncorking a bottle.
"I brought a lovely Chianti from last year. Anyone not want a glass?"
"Half a glass for me, darling. I'm still learning my wine vintages, but don't you usually go for older ones?"
"Not with Chianti, April. Some wines improve with age, but a Chianti is best drunk young. It's really best in the first three years."
Napoleon offered the first glass to Illya since he was already eating, then poured for April.
"Of course, I've heard that some vineyards are trying to develop a Chianti with more depth and longevity, but I think you'll find this was was - quite literally - made to go with pasta."
Mark sat April's plate in front of her and loaded the next one for Napoleon.
"Not that I mind it being a tradition, but why exactly do we get together and have sausage of some sort every February 2nd?"
Napoleon chuckled.
"That all started when Illya was looking over his first office calendar and wondered why we had a holiday celebrating sausages."*
Mark's brain walked very similar paths to Illya's on food and he began laughing while April looked a bit puzzled. Mark was still grinning as he prompted her.
"What's most sausage made from, luv?"
"Ground pork . . . oh!"
Shaking her head, April picked up a piece of garlic bread.
"I take it Napoleon explained the bit about a groundhog being a rodent?"
Illya paused to take a sip of wine, then nodded.
"He did indeed. Although watching rodent shadows does not make a great deal of sense, it does appear to be quite the popular pastime."
Napoleon took a sip of wine himself before continuing.
"At any rate, Illya said that eating them would have made more sense. I had to agree and we went out and had a very nice sausage dinner together. And we've done it every Groundhogs Day since then."
"Even if we were on assignment, we have yet to be somewhere that some form of sausage was not available."
April smiled and lifted her glass.
"So far as traditions go, I consider this one a winner. Cheers!"
"And please pass the meatballs."
*from The 'Language Barrier' Affair