Slutty Dinner Party
I had big dreams of returning to twice-weekly blogging after I returned from the deadly combination of my birthday + a trade conference in New York + a spate of legal-ish meetings that left me drained, but then I got COVID. Again.
Again.
I got what I can now say with almost total certainty was the novel coronavirus in February of 2020, back when there were zero tests and you sounded absolutely deranged if you suggested you, an otherwise healthy woman who had not recently traveled to Wuhan, might have it. I have never in my life been this sick; I slept twenty hours a day and could barely breathe even in ideal circumstances. My former partner was then traveling extensively for work, and I remember lying in bed thinking, “okay, he gets home Friday, which means if I die, worst case scenario, I’ll only be dead like two days when they find me and the dogs have enough water to get through until then.” I am, yes, highly dramatic, but it felt like that!
This was, comparatively, a walk in the park. I was very exhausted and had some unpleasant symptoms, but I was more or less better a week later. The trouble was, nothing tasted good until about a week ago, and I had depleted my pantry stockpile in an effort to see not one (1) person during what may have been my contagious period.
My friend Elizabeth, who has been casually adopted by my parents, had something she needed to drop off for me and it was about dinner time and, knee jerk, I just asked if she wanted to stay for dinner. She said yes which prompted the realization I had, um, very little in the house and also that the house was kinda disgusting since I had been wandering around it, wraithlike, for some time.
I am nothing if not obsessed with achieving perfection. My therapist (hi, Emily) has suggested that I perhaps seek perfection in all things due to a terror I will be discovered as a fraud and cast out of society should I make any mistake whatsoever to which I say, no, that’s you. Letting Elizabeth, who is basically family, come into my dirty house and eat something impromptu(!) felt deranged.
But I am growing! I did it! I really did do it. I want to be the kind of person who can “do casual” but what I actually want is to be the kind of person who can receive love from people who care about me regardless of my state. I have always felt people wouldn’t like me if I weren’t consistently very nicely mannered, the smartest person in the room, a great gift-giver, eternally cheerful, and in possession of perfect hair.* It sounds ridiculous, but being the kind of person who can let someone into a sub-ideal living room (I dimmed lights and lit candles, I am still me) and serve something unconsidered is perilously close to self-acceptance. I’m teetering on the edge of that with slut spgahetti, a pantry-only riff on the classic puttanesca.
Elizabeth is vegetarian and I’m mostly as such, so I switched some things up to keep it easy. This comes together in minutes and asks almost nothing of your dry goods. It also makes great leftovers— I took dribs and drabs to the shop with me and snacked on it all week, both hot and cold, another thing that low-key horrifies me. It’s a deliberately inexact recipe, so if you’re lacking quantity (or even a whole category of thing), it’s really no problem.
I took terrible photos of our easy get-together. I didn’t retouch them and I’m not filtering them. I didn’t take any process photos and, you know what? I had a really fun night catching up with Elizabeth and her boyfriend, some of the first humans I had seen in some time. Growth!
*The hair part might be true. If I didn’t know me, I would want to be friends with this hair.
Slut’s Spaghetti
adapted from Nigella’s Kitchen
serves four-ish
Ingredients:
a pound-ish of dry spaghetti
2 Tablespoons olive oil
1 heaping tablespoon gochujang (I like this one)
3 or 4 cloves garlic, minced
about a pound/half kilo of canned tomatoes (or fresh if you happen to have them, which I, plainly, did not)
about a cup of drained olives, chopped (I like the array they have on the hot bar at your local grocery store/whole foods, but any oily kind you’ve got is fine and TBH, as long as it’s not like, a bleu cheese-stuffed olive, it’s fine)
2-3 tablespoons of capers, chopped (drained if the briny kind)
Optional but beloved extras:
a big handful of breadcrumbs toasted in butter
a small handful of walnuts, toasted then chopped
some chopped parsley (about a tablespoon per person)
generous half cup or so of grated parmesan
To do:
Set a pot of generously salted water on to boil.
While that’s getting underway, heat a wide skillet with steep edges on medium. When the pan is hot, add the oil. Once it’s shimmering, drop in the gochujang and stir quickly with a wooden spoon. When it’s a little bit brown, toss in the garlic and sauté for about thirty seconds, or until fragrant. Then dump in your tomatoes, and give that a stir, breaking them up a bit as you go. Let this cook until some of the water has evaporated from the tomatoes and it feels a little thicker. For me, it took about five minutes, but depending on the brand and kind of tomatoes you used, it might be less or more. Add the olives and capers and allow to simmer.
Once that’s accomplished, your water is likely boiling, so put in your spaghetti and let that cook until al dente. For me, this is around six or seven minutes, but could be different for myriad reasons. Use your best judgement. Drain when ready and reserve about a cup of the pasta water just in case.
Now is the time to make your pangrattato, if you so desire. That’s the optional bit I mentioned above. I like it, and I tend to make a bunch of it at once then save it, so feel free to multiply the recipe and keep this in your fridge. Melt a nice pat of butter in a skillet, then toss in a clove of garlic you’ve minced (or not). Add the breadcrumbs, toasting until brown. Add the toasted, chopped up walnuts and give everything a stir. Remove from heat, and once it’s cooled, integrate the parmesan.
Take your drained spaghetti and add it to the tomato/olive/caper mix you’ve got simmering. Really give it a good toss and coat all the noodles with the sauce. If it’s looking a little bit dry (e.g., there’s not quite enough sauce to go around), pour the pasta water in a bit at a time until it has that glossy look we all love so dearly.
Serve in bowls and top with the pangrattato if you made it. Add a big big pinch of parsley and some red pepper flakes and relish the absolute perfection of a pantry meal.