well...I'm stuck. My girlfriend thinks I have a secret heirloom pasta sauce recipe.

It’s literally Rao’s... and now her Italian grandma wants to watch me cook. When my girlfriend and I first moved in together, I wanted to impress her with a romantic dinner. I bought two jars of Rao’s marinara, tossed in extra garlic, red pepper flakes and a splash of red wine, and let it simmer. When she asked for the recipe, my dumb ego took over. I claimed it was a confidential "four-generation secret recipe" from my great-aunt that requires six hours of slow simmering. She was completely blown away. For two years I maintained the illusion. Whenever it was my turn to make pasta, I’d make her leave the kitchen, hide teh empty glass jars at the bottom of the outdoor recycling bin, and leave dirty wooden spoons on the counter to make it look like hard labor. Here is where my life ends. Last Sunday she bragged to her traditional Italian grandmother about my "generational culinary gift." Nonna was intrigued. Nonna has now officially invited me to her house next weekend to "cook side-by-side" so I can teach her my sacred technique in her kitchen. I don’t even know how to properly blanch a fresh tomato! I am walking into the lion's den with zero culinary skills and a two-year-old lie. My funeral will be held on Sunday.