La Cucina

"I'm a man's ideal of a perfect meal, right down to the demitasse." -- Comden and Green


I'm sitting at home in our windows-on-three-walls-plus-a-skylight den, watching a torrential downpour all around me. Sundays are long, slow days in these parts: I wake up at 8, spend the morning cooking, have dinner with my family at 1:00, then spend the rest of the day lazing around the house.

Sunday dinner -- when the whole extended family gathers at someone's house for an early afternoon meal -- is one of the few true Italian traditions we strictly honor. It happens every week, it's always a feast, and there's no excuse for missing it. Seriously. If you don't have to be at work, at school, at somebody's wedding, or at somebody's funeral, you'd better be there or risk the wrath of a dozen angry paisanos. And though I've been called an anti-feminist because of it, I delight in putting on an apron once a week, lugging out my great-grandmother's gravy pot and cleaver, and preparing this meal for my family. A normal, non-holiday Sunday dinner should include a little cheese and cured meat for antipasto, a pasta course with homemade gravy, some sort of meat (often cooked in the gravy), at least two vegetables, a simple salad, and, later on, coffee and cake. My grandmother prepared the same plain-yet-delicious homemade tomato gravy every week, but after learning how to work a whole meal's worth of nutrients into a pasta dish during college, I prefer to mix things up a little. This was today's offering: a flavorful pasta light enough for summer yet rich enough for a rainy day.

Penne with Goat Cheese and Sun-Dried Tomatoes

1 pound penne, pennette, rigatoni, or similar pasta

1 jar (8-10 oz) sun-dried tomatoes in oil, finely chopped or food-processed, plus 2 tbsp of the oil

1 small onion, chopped

4 cloves garlic, minced

1 box Pomi strained tomatoes

½ cup white wine

2 heaping tbsp herbed goat cheese

Salt and pepper to taste

Sautee the onion in the sun-dried tomato oil until nearly transparent, then add the garlic and sun-dried tomatoes and sautee until the garlic is lightly browned. Slowly add the wine and reduce for five minutes, then add the Pomi, stir, and cover. Cook on medium heat for one hour, stirring periodically. Pour over cooked pasta, crumble the goat cheese on top, and toss until the goat cheese melts into the sauce. Serves six hungry people plus leftovers.

Born Again

"Oh, you think you'll grow up by the time you're twenty-two, but I know better." -- The Kitchen Cabinet

I've started many new things lately: a new job, post-college life, the real world, and, as of 6:30 this morning, my twenty-second year on this planet. Thus, why not celebrate by re-starting this record of my life? I haven't written much lately because I tend to think of my life as boring, but since I'm a young artist/inventor/New Yorker who spends eight hours a day curing cancer, I should be able to find something to blog about. Maybe my life is truly boring, but I'll let you decide that for yourself.

I'm at work now, actually, and unlike most of the government/HIPAA/institutionally protected things I do here, I'm allowed to tell you what I'm up to today. I'm sitting in a windowless basement trying to pay attention to a training program for people who manage research studies here. Unfortunately, I've been managing research studies here for over a month now and most of the information being presented today is completely redundant. My PalmPilot battery is dead, I've already answered my slew of Happy Birthday texts, and all of my patients' schedules are plotted for the next two weeks, so I decided to pull out my Moleskine and start writing. I'll post this later when I return to civilization.

And because it's that sort of morning, I'm going to write about my yarn obsession. I'm a crocheter, and despite my college loans and meager salary, I have a nasty habit of buying yarn I don't need, yarn with no purpose, yarn with no project in mind. To make matters worse, I'm a yarn snob as well as a yarn hoarder: I only knit with silks and angoras and cottons and quality wools, which are all decidedly harder on the wallet than Wal-Mart wool and Lion Brand. And of course, every time I vow to not purchase another skein until I'm once again able to confine my existing stash to a single box, I find an unbelievable sale on a fiber so gorgeous that I simply can't pass it up.

I recently placed a pretty massive order to Webs and purchased enough taupe cabled cotton to make a sweater (which is almost finished), dark green cotton to make a sleeveless tunic, orange nylon ribbon to make a Mobius scarf, and tan bamboo tape to make a shawl of undetermined dimensions. I promised myself that I'd work through some of my stash before I even look at yarn again, and for a good two weeks, I stayed away from all of my favorite clearance spots.

Two nights ago, my fingers acted entirely of their own accord and pointed my keyboard towards Knit Picks. I spotted a sampler of gorgeous laceweight in stunning colors at a price of approximately $1.00 per 100 yards. I placed an order. I even ordered a pair of chunky knitting needles even though I don't really knit. Question is now: what do I make with it? How many thin scarves and pairs of gloves can I possibly knit before I'm sick of them?

At least laceweight is light enough to carry around without a problem. I'm getting tired of commuting with three-quarters of a sweater and an arsenal of needles every day.