Cursed

Someone put a food curse on my house.

I cooked like crap last week … Nothing lived up to expectation, mistakes were made at every turn, I threw my knife more than once into the wooden chopping block.

Maybe it started with the Osso Buco my husband attempted last weekend. He had been craving the comforting dish and we were all looking forward to it. Sadly, not even his rich sauce could save the mealy, fatty pork shanks which he had substituted for veal shanks (fearing a revolt from the teenagers).

That meal was followed by a diappointing bean soup, in which I used too few beans and too much stock. Post puree, the resulting soup was a thin, weak mess instead of a thick, hearty belly warmer.

So I resorted to the repertoire and pulled together a meatloaf. But I miscalculated the oven temp/size of loaf/timing of sides and ended up with a set table, ready eaters, and a main dish with a nakedly raw center. More broccoli anyone?

I won’t resort to victimology, that my mojo must have been off due to the illness making its way among my family members, or the silly situation that gave me stitches on Friday. I’m better than that, I’ve cooked through worse to better heights. So I thought I would be able to kick it into high gear and pull off a spectacular dinner party this weekend for one of the Grrrls who was debuting her current beau among her friends. The veg was good, everything else was average. They broke up the next day, I kid you not.

My confidence is shaken, the phrase ringing through my head as I pick up a knife is a resouning YOU SUCK. What’s worse, this is a particularly bad time to have the whammy on my kitchen, we’re in the final countdown to the seasonal feast: Tday 10 days out.

So tonight I am cleaning my kitchen from floor to ceiling and lighting a bound stick of dried sage. I don’t know what I have done to piss off the Kitchen Witch, but this evening’s meal will be cooked humbly and slowly. To rebalance myself I am making spaghetti Napoletana. The smell of freshly smashed garlic simmering in olive oil should help rebaptize my kitchen and there’s a chance the bright red tomatoes will bring me luck. Using a long and toothsome pasta like spaghetti just feels right. This is a simple dish that I could make with my eyes closed … but not tonight.

Spaghetti Napoletana

1 lb. spaghetti

4 T olive oil

4 cloves garlic: peel, then smash with side of knife, roughly chop

1 28oz. can whole peeled tomatoes: drain most (not all) of liquid, move knife within the can to break tomatoes apart

1/2 cup freshly chopped basil

Freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

In a big pot of salted water, cook spaghetti until aldente, DO NOT OVERCOOK.

While pasta is cooking, heat olive oil in large saute pan over med-high heat. Add garlic and simmer until slightly browned. Toss in tomatoes and stir about to mix with garlic, add basil with salt and pepper to taste. Let mix reduce and thicken, stirring occaisionally for about 6-8 minutes.

When pasta is ready and drained, add it to the tomato mixture and toss to coat. Sprinkly liberally with cheese and toss again. Slide it all into a large serving bowl/platter. Garnish with more cheese and chopped basil if you’d like. Serves 4 hungry people who might like a slice of garlic bread on the side.