It was … how long ago? No matter. The recipe is now public domain. Bananas, vanilla ice cream, pumpkin-seed butter—yes, that was the mystic green hue, the aftertaste of autumn, the chill beyond the tongue. Despite the hubris of my youth, I honestly don’t know if my results were better. Yes, I’ve had my challengers. Is preference inherited? Is it desired? What I do know is this: the grass is flattened out with the shapes of tents, and, simply, there is no more room in my yard. So it is with regret that I ask you boys to now leave.