My 17-year-old walked into the kitchen at 1 a.m. last night, still in his shoes, and said, "Mom, don't freak out, but I drove a girl home." I was awake. I'm always awake until he's in. I put my phone down and braced myself for the worst. He told me there was a party at a friend's house. Everybody was loud and having a good time, and then he found a girl from his chem class, Megan, passed out on a couch in the back room. Her friends had left without her. Nobody was checking on her. A couple of guys were standing around laughing. Jake said he tried to wake her, but she wouldn't respond. He immediately called 911 and stayed with her while waiting for help. Once she was being looked after, he found out where she lived and made sure someone could contact her family. He said he just knew he couldn't walk away.

I’m going back to physical cookbooks because I’m DONE with closing 15 ads, reading your grandmother’s origin story, and scrolling through an entire memoir before I finally get to the actual recipe.