Le fin

14 March 04
Writing ceased because of a shift in ideals. Or maybe not such a shift in ideals as much as a theme change. The motif of life for me has gone from a nice paisley that hangs in the kitchen, matching the distinctiveness of the blue hues in the chairs, to a primer grey – a cigarette soaked, rock infested, tattooed 67 corvette with a drunk at the wheel. While I thought this was mostly senioritis, I think instead my peter pan complex has kicked into full effect, dropping the Wendy’s along the way. And with my newly found happy thoughts, are some interesting ideas about cooking.


Onion and Chorizo Penne with Garlic Bread

1 large onion
1 half package of Mexican sausage
half a pound of penne pasta
This dish is simple, quick, and amazing. Gas produced following this meal is of the highest quality and concentration. Best served as late lunch before work.

Wash a frying pan and a large saucepan. Allow to dry over high heat, realizing that neither is actually clean. Yell expletives as you throw one searing pan back into the crowded sink, burning your hand and dropping cigarette ash into your breast pocket. Yell again as the ash burns towards your nipple and extinguish with pan in other hand. Yell again. Scrub the pans for five or so minutes, until you think that the rest of the food will be burnt off the pans while cooking.

Heat oil in frying pan to almost smoke point. Bring 2 quarts of water to a rolling boil and misjudge the amount of salt to add. Resign yourself to salty pasta and add parmesan cheese to ingredient list. Add penne, spilling boiling water into the now hot oil in adjacent frying pan. Cook pasta until slightly tender, leaving some time for finishing.

Julienne onion and add to oil, adding chorizo as fast as you can. Remember plastic skin on sausage after adding to oil, so pull out with fingers. Remove skin, add again. (Chorizo is best when purchased by roommate earlier than two weeks previous. Let sit in meat tray until scary. ) When chorizo is browned, strain pasta and mix both into saucepan. Toss with a little corn oil and fresh grated parmesan cheese.

Use the last two remaining pieces of bread in the apartment, both of which happen to be heels, to make garlic bread. Spread butter onto both sides and sprinkle with granulated garlic and salt. Put into toaster and forget about them for a -good- fifteen minutes. Serve with second helping. Serves 1, three days in a row.




Unrequited Stuffed Peppers with Blood Sauce

Two bell peppers, about the size of a fist
Two tomatoes, soft
Cooked rice
¼ lb bacon
1 onion
Olive Oil, the hopeless romantic kind
1 tblsp Tomato Paste
½ c Chicken Stock or Broth
Dried Basil
The key to this recipe is emotional. Unrepressed, unadulterated, undeniable, miserable hunger for something to feel. After having a dizzying, countless number of relationships with your food, it is impossible to stray from the one you cannot have. Spend a about two weeks thinking about the same person, trying to eat the same food that was once satisfying, only to realize that sustenance is not the same as flavor.

Start by boiling water to peel the tomatoes. Poach for two minutes, and peel under cold water, making swift analogy to hearts that have been pulled out some poor saps chest. Dice an onion, saving half for the rice mixture. Cry a bit. Sautee the onion in olive oil, reminiscing about basil in Dad’s garden, the smell of the rows so sick and sweet. Add tomatoes and herbs. Dilute with half a cup of water and add a tablespoon of tomato paste. This should bring the sauce to an arterial red, thick but vulnerable. Set aside and keep warm.

Start over. New pan. New spoon. New flavor. Chop bacon into one inch squares and fry for one or two minutes. Add rest of onion. Cry some more, just for good measure. Scowl. Pick up phone to call someone else to eat with you, set phone down after a few seconds. Add chicken stock herbs and rice. Rice should be clingy, like unrequited love, but still spongy enough to be pushed and come back for more. Set aside and keep warm.

Decapitate the peppers with a small paring knife. Remove the seeds and white pithy parts from the inside of the peppers. Stuff with rice mixture and top with red sauce. Place in aluminum bread pan or roasting pan. Cook at 275° for 45 minutes. Serve by melting a little cheese over the top.


That one hurt too much. It’ll be the last one for a while.