The Russian accent

"Is that Russian food?," I asked before I could stop myself. Aleksander barked out a laugh and looked up from the pot of boiling water to glance at me over his shoulder. "No it's not"

"It's a rather simple dish, actually. It just sounds fancy." I listened to him as l sat on the one of the stools at the kitchen island to watch him as he cooked.

"Garlic, olive oil, parsley and Parmigiano_ reggiano tossed with angel hair pasta.... It's Italian and so simple to cook", He spoke.

"Simple or not, it smells wonderful." With his back turned, I frowned as my thoughts went to my last conversation about pasta. Papa would be happy to know I was eating something that sounded so classically Italian. "I didn't know you could cook at all, so, consider me impressed."

Aleksander pulled two glass bowls from his cabinet and started plating up pasta with a grin. "I am an impressive man, Rhea. I have many talents." He took the seat next to me at the island.

"But this is just a simple meal to cook after a l