A movable feast

Every once in a while, Other makes a delicious, spicy meal that is so fragrant and bursting with flavor that the odor lingers for days. It hangs in the air, oozes from your pores, clings to your clothes—even ones you weren't wearing during dinner folded innocently in your bureau. So it was with last night's sausage, sweet peppers and pasta. It was the feast that kept on giving. Today I showed up in yoga class reeking like a side of ripe beef.