Ode to the Bit of Onion That Landed on My Shoulder

His dinner was rendered to a hungry mouth
in rough fistfuls,
without interruption.
Without skill or subtlety.
Sauce-drenched bits,
white knuckles,
unblinking desire.

In front of him,
of it,
a large plastic bowl,
unlidded with haste.
To the side, a discarded top
dirty-side down
on a watch cap
and a book.
Beady eyes fixed on the contents,
a gelatinous swirl of I-really-do-not-know-what.

The first lunge catches the observer off guard.
From under the desk,
a flabby hand swings up and plunges
into sauce and vegetable,
plucking out a white fleshy morsel.
It was torn, not cut,
formerly living tendrils
that hinted at earlier lusting.
Fingers curl around wet meat,
hand becoming a fist,
fist becoming a missile,
whirling back toward the head.

A second lunge, just as surprising,
and the other hand sweeps above the stained papers 
not moments after the first
arrived above the chin.
Teeth peek through lips,
and a tongue emerges eagerly.
Three fingers and the morsel enter,
then the lips contract.
The meat is gone,
the fingers swabbed,
but not clean.
Moving fast,
blurry and shiny.

It doesn’t stop.


In the Sauce

Pasta a la Me, made mostly with San Marzano peeled tomatoes ($2.39 for a 15-ounce can).

Are you a childless adult? Are you not charged with athe care of any invalid friends or relatives? Do you live in New York, or some other place where its possible to get decent groceries? Then listen, you have no excuse to ever buy jarred pasta sauce.

via How To Make Weeknight Pasta Sauce | The Awl.

It is not so much a recipe that is offered here (at the link above) but a slightly scolding rejoinder for people who say they do not have time to cook. I am not one of those people, so I admit that I took some small offense from it all. But the advice given is excellent and the result was both inexpensive and delicious. In truth, it is so simple and easy that it is kind of stupid that someone has to tell people this. (But someone did.)

I added broccoli and red pepper to my version, which I zapped with an immersion blender — before serving on multigrain noodles — just because I wanted to get on with things.

Alternatively, and this is even dumber, though even less expensive and just as delicious, consider using only the best of what you can find in the produce aisle, and heating this through with your fried-up onions and garlic. Add a little feta and serve without tomato sauce as a kind of warm pasta salad.