Spinach

I've decided. I really like to cook. Even if it's just for me. Tonight, as Michele and the kids are away, and I simply couldn't stare down another order of chicken tikka masala (though I do dearly love the stuff), I decided to see what could be made from the few items in the fridge which remain recognizable after my family's two week absence.

It's not that I can't be bothered food shopping. Perversely, I actually enjoy food shopping. I did most of the shopping when we lived in the States, at first because it was hard for Michele to get out with two kids, but then because I found a sort of euphoria in the melon-thumping, tomato squeezing ritual of a Saturday morning in Wegmans. Rather, there is almost nothing edible in our fridge because one cannot actually get in to a grocery store before 9 or after 7.

I made several false starts. Originally, I wanted to make spinach salad with hot bacon dressing. I even looked up a reciepe for the dressing on the train home. As I was getting the stuff out, I saw some eggs and decided to boil them and put them on the salad. Then, I thought it might be better to make an omlette, with sauteed spinach and tomato. Finally, I put away the eggs and made a nice spinach and tomato penne.

I offer you the receipe below, because, well, it's my blog and I can write whatever the hell I want. My dishes are more about ingredients than technique, because, while I love to shop, I hate to chop. I also don't really measure much, so the measurements in the receipe below are really just suggestions.

It's strange how the human mind works. Or mine, anyway. Much like the salad to omlette to pasta progression. I had a friend, Tim, whose mother used to have a sign in her kitchen that said 'when in doubt, add more wine'. Whenever I cook with wine (which is often, and I occasionally put some in the food, too), I think of this.

Tim was a good guy. He was a positive force in my adolescent life. He introduced me to public speaking. Because of this, I went through to three national speech tournaments in places as varied as Buffalo and Baltimore. WIthout his influence, I would not have seen New Orleans in its ante diluvian heyday. He also showed me how to work the antiquated lighting system in my high school auditorium. This arcane knowledge allowed me to skip almost as much class as I wanted because, after all, I was the only one who knew how to do it after he graduated. It was as a passenger in Tim's car (actually, his parent's station wagon) that I first broke the 100 mile per hour barrier, topping out at 108 on Route 940 in Mount Pocono. The rumble strips at the traffic light sounded like bumblebees on meth.

Tim, along with 258 others, was on board Pan Am flight 103 when it exploded over Lockerbie, Scotland, just before Christmas 1988. He was returning home from a semester in London.

And so it goes, to borrow a particularly appropriate Vonnegut phrase.


Empty the Fridge Spinach and Tomato Penne
. 1/2 pound spinach leaves, washed and dried
. about 8 strips of pancetta if you can get it, or thinly sliced bacon if you can't
. 2 ripe tomatoes
. olive oil (regular, not extra virgin, save that for bread or dressing)
. 1 shallot. Shallots are absolutely essential to keep around. They look nice, they smell nice and darn it, they taste good. Buy them in large quantities wherever you find them.
. 2 cloves of garlic
. 1 pound of penne pasta
. Any hard flavorful cheese* - pecorino, parmigiano, whatever.
. White wine
. Sea salt and fresh ground black pepper. You can use plain old salt and pepper, though I think the sea salt is less, er, salty, and fresh ground pepper just looks nicer and, when applied with a suitable flourish, makes it look like you know what you're doing.

Large pan with a tight fitting lid.

Chop the shallots and garlic finely
Cut the pancetta into biggish pieces
Core the tomatoes and cut them in half horizontally
Squeeze and shake out most of the pulp and seeds, don't worry if there's some left inside
Cut the tomatoes coarsely

While the pasta is cooking, cook the pancetta, uncovered, over low heat in enough olive oil to coat the bottom of the pan. Stir occasionally. When the pancetta is nicely brown (you don't want it too crispy), turn the heat up to medium high and add the shallots and garlic. Sautee these about a minute, don't let them brown, then pour about 1/2 cup of white wine around the edges of the pan.

Stir just to get the brown bits off the bottom, then turn the heat back to low, add the spinach, sprinkle salt generously over it, and cover. The spinach will cook down a lot, so don't worry if if seems like there's too much.

When the volume of the spinach has reduced a bit, add the tomatoes, then turn the spinach over and mix the bacon mixture and tomatoes in. Add some more salt and pepper if you like. Cover and simmer until the pasta is done.

Drain the pasta, return it to its pot, then stir the spinach again. Continue cooking the spinach until it has all wilted, then add it to the pasta and stir.

Top with grated cheese. I had mine with a really nice red, but that's entirely up to you.

*There is no mold that grows on cheese which will hurt you. If your cheese is moldy (and by cheese, I specifically exclude the kind that comes pre sliced and wrapped individually), just cut the mold off and eat it. The cheese, not the mold.