Last Christmas, I gave you my heart. Well, not my heart, it was the heart of a man who shoved his way in front of me in line at Williams Sonoma. I suppose that you could say that I made it mine when I roasted it with some winter root vegetables and a white Bordeaux. Anyway, last Christmas I gave you my heart, and the very next day, you threw the left-overs away. Which is fine, it really should be eaten straight from the oven or not at all. Merry Christmas, xoxo Hannibal.