Thursday, February 21, 2008

I Cook?

As you've probably read, or divined, because to divine this secret you do not need the stars, or even a solid knowledge of me, I do not cook. The girls I live with cook, and I do the dishes and handle directions. Symbiotic.

A week or so ago, however, I was feeling rather can-do, so I went to the store, and bought everything I thought would be needed to bring about a steaming bowl of pasta. Everything that I thought, which was everything that I bought, turned out to be a stick of butter and a bag of noodles. I took these home and set up shop in our airplane bathroom of a kitchen, eager to prove myself. It occurred to me that plain jane pasta wasn't good enough for a first try, so after rummaging around a bit, I pulled together some other ingredients we had stowed for rainy and/or hungry days. My recipe was as follows:

1) Boil the pasta.
2) Put this much butter in a pan, followed by that much oil.
3) Followed by a handful of uncoothly colored mushrooms and tomatoes.
4) Sprinkle salt and mystery spice like a fairy.
5) Go read a book.

Not only did that concoction turn out to be edible, but I didn't start a grease fire, either. And if you say, I would like to try some of this so-called Cass Pasta, it's impossible. I wasn't even eyeballing amounts of ingredients. I cut the stick of butter with my eyes shut.

In the days following, I graduated to sausages, which, left unchecked, will blow a gasket and spurt meat juice like a geyser (not a geezer; this sausage had much more spit power). Nothing creates a false sense of impending doom like a single stream of flying grease.

Next week, anticipating the arrival of my mother and sister (they will come to Rome for the first week in March), I am pushing up my sleeves in preparation to make alfredo sauce from scratch. Virginia the Architecture Student recited the recipe to me; I recently went over the notes from that conversation and found my transcription lacking.

You too want to make alfredo sauce from scratch? Here's the recipe I wrote down:

1) Butter
2) Flour then milk
3) Parmesan (?)
4) Garlic and pepper

There's a surprising lack of numbers, but my favorite detail is the punctuation: whether it was that I did not know if it were parmesan or not, or if I thought parmesan was a questionable cheese choice, I do not know. I'll give you an update afterwards.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

this is the man from the clothes store, call me, I'm lonely.