I discovered on Sunday morning, as I watched him tip the entire contents of the serving bowl onto his plate at the breakfast buffet in our hotel, that my man loves pistachios. So yesterday while searching the supermarket aisles for pate brisee (hidden next to the ready-to-bake cookies) I picked up a packet of roasted salted pistachios to stave off the hunger pangs, since my cooking always takes about an hour longer than anticipated.

Oh. my. word.

Under what rock have I been living that I had never tasted the immense and extroadinary pleasure that is a roasted pistachio nut?

My life is forever changed.