A perfect example of how cooking can work to relieve aggression.
So a really good friend of mine came over. We don’t have much time to see each other and talk this time of year, since she’s really busy at work. We miss that, or at least I do. Anyway, she brought her significant other, also a friend, though, as can happen, one who drives me out of my mind from time to time with their cluelessness to the needs of others. And the significant other sat in my friend’s usual chair, as if by right, and proceeded to be more than usually clueless. Meaning my friend had to keep interrupting our conversation to try to make the S.O. feel included. Since the S.O.’s idea of being included can be that everyone needs to stop what they’re talking about and listen to the S.O.’s monologue, this can sometimes be a trying event. Which on this particular evening it was.
At least for me. Who is not the most patient of persons. Especially at the end of the day when I’m looking forward to a real conversation and a glass of wine. Especially AFTER the glass of wine.
At one point, our dogs acted needy too, her dog and mine, and my friend asked if I wanted her to put them outside. I suggested the S.O. be put outside instead. My friend cracked up. Now we both love the S.O. But this was not the moment for their monologues. I suggested we go over to the kitchen area instead and leave my husband with the S.O. Gratefully, my friend accepted. “I need to get our dinner started anyway,” I said loudly to make our excuses, as we both made our way over, and poured out two more glasses of wine.
Now I had a small conundrum. I had planned on making baked eggs and toast for supper, with roasted broccoli on the side. In preparation, I’d trimmed a head of broccoli and cut it into small florets. But I wanted to pay close attention to my conversation with my friend. And also I wanted to drink more wine. Baked eggs need their own close attention. Very close attention. More attention than I wanted to give them while I listened to my friend. And drank more wine, which tends to interfere with precise timing.
What to do?
I idly considered what I had in the fridge as my friend explained a particularly knotty and interesting problem she’d solved at work. I had a bowl of grated parmesan left over from the night before. This suggested pasta. I can always chop onions and garlic no matter where my attention is. This suggested a pasta sauce of said onions, garlic, and broccoli, with parmesan at the table to scatter on top.
Then I heard the S.O. in the living area holding forth on something or other, and my husband patiently responding. I had a moment of wanting to go over there and hold a pillow over the S.O.’s head. In a friendly way, of course. Even a loving way. Sort of. I felt guilty, but there it was. And then, in a flash, it came to me! Smothered broccoli pasta sauce!
Now smothered broccoli pasta sauce is a bit retro, given our present love of barely cooked veg. And also kind of a muddy green color when it’s properly done, since properly done means simmered in some red wine, which does nothing for its attractiveness but everything for its taste. I hadn’t made it in a long time, even though I love it.
But there I was, drinking red wine and idly laughing at myself for wanting to smother the S.O. All at once it came together. So as my friend and I chatted and laughed, relieved to not have to prop up another person for a few moments while we did it, I made smothered broccoli pasta.
Like this (for two):
–A head of broccoli, broken into small flowerets, coarse skin removed from stems, chopped.
–A sliced onion.
–3 cloves of minced garlic.
–A bit of olive oil to cover a sauté pan.
–Heat olive oil with a medium flame. Add veg to heated olive oil, stir to coat. Add a little salt.
–Attend to your friend. Pour you both out another glass of red wine.
–The veggies are now making cooking noises. Add a few glugs of wine from your glass. Lower heat when bubbles appear. Simmer away.
–What you want here is for the veg to be soft and well done. Doesn’t really matter if you cook it too long, as long as the pan doesn’t get dry. As it does dry, add more glups of red wine until it’s saucy again.
–Put on a pot of water to boil.
–When the sauce is done to your liking, and the pot of water boils, if your conversation continues, simply turn off the heat.
When your friend gets up to leave with the S.O., go and hug them both, the S.O. especially with a guilty but affectionate peck on the cheek.
Then return to the kitchen. Turn the pot with the water back on. When it boils again, add a half pound of pasta, which is enough for two people and a bit leftover to have for breakfast if one of you is so inclined (I was). Spaghetti, linguine, penne, any of those are nice—I had spaghetti, so I added that.
When the pasta is just about done, turn the heat on under the sauce to warm it up again. When they’re both at the right point, combine (in either pan, or in another bowl). Serve out.
Observe critically and realize you want a little color on top. I just scissored a bunch of chives I had to make a bright green sploot atop. Scattered some parmesan on the sploot, called the husband to table, and had at it.
Boy, was it good. And leftovers good cold for my breakfast, too. Best of all, I had made myself laugh and made myself something good to eat rather than going over to the living room and smothering my friend.
Life can be great that way sometimes. It’s kind of like making lemonade from lemons, isn’t it?
I always like a way to do that, don’t you?