Thursday, March 21, 2024

Pasta And Sauce, Two Dinners

     Last Sunday, I made pasta: rotini* with marinara sauce from a jar, livened up with mild Italian sausage, a small can of sliced black olives (well-drained) and shishito pepper rings.  It was good -- the spiral rotini hold a lot of sauce.  All of the ingredients except the sauce were things I already had on the shelf on in the fridge.  There was sauce left over, so I froze it.

     On the way home yesterday, I was thinking about what might work for dinner.  I picked up a small onion, three-quarters of a pound of lean ground beef and some Parmesan cheese.

     Once home, I set the frozen leftover sauce to thaw in the microwave, browned the ground beef, drained it, pushed it to the edges of the pan and cooked the diced onion until it was translucent and just starting to brown.  I added a small can of plain tomato sauce and some spices, mostly basil and garlic, stirred it all together and added the mostly-thawed leftover sauce.

     For pasta, I used fregula: tiny, toasted spheres of pasta, that range from dark brown to the usual pale tan.  I put them in a two-cup measure half full of hot water in the microwave and gave it several one-minute runs, watching closely for when it would boil up and stopping the oven before it could boil over.  This trick will half-cook the fregula.  When it was done, the sauce was bubbling well.  I used a little of the starchy pasta water to rinse the tomato sauce can and add to the pan, drained the rest, and stirred in the fregula.

     I went to put the lid on, thought a second, and used the spoon to make a shallow dent in the sauce, then broke an egg in to poach while it finished cooking.  I like eggs pomodoro, and it's a low-effort addition.

     Fifteen minutes latter, dinner was ready -- plain for Tam and with an egg for me, and with Parmesan cheese on top.  The shishito peppers had cooked down nicely, and the onion and black olive got along with them very well.
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* When I was growing up, we called them "scroodles," and they were an exotic foreign side dish, usually served with only butter, salt and pepper on them.  They're really fusilli, but in the U. S. and Canada, they're called rotini -- changed at Ellis Island, I suppose.

3 comments:

Bob said...

" I picked up a small onion, ..."

Who buys ONE onion? Buy your stuff by the bagfull, or whatever.

Roberta X said...

I buy one onion. They don't keep that well and few things are nastier than a long-lost onion that has spent the summer rotting away. Half a bagful is worse. BTDT, Mom kept piles of potatoes and onions in a deep, dark corner cabinet and I was the small, agile child who got to clean up the mess when the supply had exceeded demand for too long.

You're not the boss of me. I'm not feeding an army. I'm not even feeding a family, just a couple of old maids. I've usually got a couple of onions and a couple of potatoes, and that's plenty. That evening, I didn't, so I bought one. There are four grocers within bicycling distance of my house, one of the advantages of city life.

The insane arrogance of men -- not all of 'em, but a lot of 'em -- is more amusing than aggravating, but holy cow, boy! Sit down and be respectful. Or go read something else, it's all the same to me.

Cop Car said...

Count me as one old (86 yo) woman who feeds herself and a husband by buying smaller amounts when possible. One onion is usually plenty. I only buy a (small) bag when I know that I can use them. Rotting onions and rotting potatoes have caused much odor and much cleanup over the years. Now they tell me: Don't keep potatoes and onions together.

BTW: COVID changed some of my buying habits for a couple of years. I picked up groceries that had been pulled from the shelves by store employees. The employee picked the largest piece of vegetable or fruit in the bin when I ordered one each - presumably thinking that s/he was pleasing a customer. Arrgh! I now am happy to do my own shopping - frequently picking the smallest piece of vegetable or fruit. I don't need a yellow squash the size of a watermelon. Oh, wait! Watermelons are now the size of a large grapefruit.