Sunday Sauce: Bucatini with Sage, Rosemary, and Pancetta

IMG_4086[I know it’s Tuesday, but stuff got in the way. If it helps, the basic outline was written on Sunday.]

I don’t think coffee would be much improved by peanut butter. There may be just two ingredients, but it sounds like a bad idea. That’s just my opinion.

There is a fetish for simplicity in cooking; less is more being the idea. I’m not an adherent. The final result is good or not, independent of the number of ingredients but I’ll admit to being pleased with the fact that most of my Sunday sauces have no more components than fingers on my left hand but only because that generally means I spend less. (Why did he specify the left hand? That was weird.)

For the record, olive oil, salt, and pepper don’t count. Those fall under the aegis of having a kitchen and are expected aspects of the word “cooking.”

This week’s entry has sage, rosemary, pancetta, tomatoes, garlic, and onion. Still amongst the simple, but requiring an index finger from my less sinister hand may seem like I’m pushing the envelope.

Pour a few glugs of olive oil into a sauce pan and add half of a diced yellow onion. That was phrased awkwardly. Take half of a yellow onion and dice it. Then add it to a sauce pan with a bit of yellow onion. Don’t bother dicing a whole onion and then adding only half of it as implied by this paragraph’s lead sentence. My apologies. This web site is seriously going to pot. Saute over medium heat for two or three minutes.

Pick the leaves from a decent sized sprig of rosemary, chop finely, and add to the pan with four leaves of sage and stir. After a minute or two, add four ounces of diced pancetta, four or five peeled and smashed cloves of garlic and saute for at least five minutes, stirring frequently.

IMG_4087At this point your wife should be saying things like “It smells so good in here.” If she happens to walk the dog and upon returning doesn’t say “You need to go outside and come back in just so you can smell how amazing that is,” throw the whole batch away and start over. Something has gone awry.

When aromatic excellence is achieved, add twenty eight ounces of canned tomatoes with their juices. I take whole tomatoes and tear them up in a bowl. I like the way the torn tendrils grip the pasta, but I know those who disagree for no discernible reason. If you are among their [trigger warning] tribe, feel free to use puree. Either way, add the tomatoes, achieve a boil and reduce to a simmer. Let go for twenty minutes, salt and pepper to taste. Toss with bucatini cooked in heavily salted water. Obviously drain the pasta first.

IMG_4092I’ve mentioned on these electronic pages and on other platforms how much I’ve enjoyed the cookbook Rome: Centuries in an Italian Kitchen by Katie and Giancarlo Caldesi. On page 124 they write:

Bucatini… is one of the silliest forms of pasta ever made. It is thick and difficult to wrap around your fork, whips around your face as you suck it in and whistles as the air passes through it almost so as to draw attention to your lack of finesse. It also splashes its bright red coating of sauce around your person and clothes. No thank you. Give me good old rigatoni or penne any day.

I completely agree up to the “No thank you,” bit. As the careful reader may have surmised, a pasta that threatens to stain your shirt commends itself greatly to a person who writes at a domain name called mightstainyourshirt.

So if you try the bullet points on WordPress, be prepared to fight if you change your mind. I like the “hyphen” bold first few words method of signalling that I’m on to the next frivolity, but it seems that once you start, the bullet point format intends to stay, or at least assert itself at odd times.

Even if I’m able to overcome this frustration and typeset as I see fit, I’m not deleting this aside. The world should have a record of my battle, Thermopalesque as it was.

I’m amused that Donald Trump is completely befuddled by the rise of Ben Carson. “I don’t get it.” he said. In my opinion he and Carson are two sides of the same coin.

Conservatives have grown used to the following conversation with those with whom they disagree:

Conservative: The problem is that we don’t…

“Liberal”: RACIST!

Conservative: Wait. No. I was just going to say that everyone benefits..

“Liberal”: RACIST!

And thus is discourse achieved. Trump and Carson are able to get past the current rules of debate.

No matter how odious I find the bastard, Trump is able to yell his way past the nonsense that generally cows Republicans. His dumb-ass bombast is thrown head to head with the dumb-ass bombast from the left. He’s by no means a conservative, but his fans are willing to sell out their beliefs to be on the winning side of an argument for once.

Carson takes the opposite tact. He’s unflappably calm. His strength lies in infinite patience. He’s willing to explain the reasons he believes what he believes even if it takes a million lifetimes. No matter how many times the rhetorical equivalent of “RACIST!” is leveled to interrupt him, he seems prepared to weather the storm of volume and start over, explaining the whys.

The only thing to get, is that both camps are sick of being sidelined by the volume of their ideological opponents. They are finally getting heard. I sympathize.

Mizzou has gone nuts, and possibly over nothing. There are a handful of sticking points that have enraged a portion of the student body and resulted in the resignation of the university president and a chancellor to boot.

The first is that someone in a pick-up truck yelled a racial slur at the Student Body President, a black, gay male. The incident happened off campus and was perpetrated by who knows who, but apparently this is evident that a campus that voted in a black gay male as Student Body President is systemically racist. Obviously the President and a Chancellor of the University should resign.

To muddy the waters, there were no witnesses to the incident and the Student Body President later Tweeted that he had confirmed that the KKK was on campus and that he was working with the University and the National Guard to take care of things.

A later Tweet redacted and apologized for the Klan confirmation which turned out to be untrue. I can accept that he heard a rumor and maybe overreacted when reporting the KKK presence. As to working with the University, there is some grey area. Maybe he emailed the some official and considered that “working with.” Various sources have contacted the National Guard. It looks like he made that bit up out of whole cloth. But there was this pick up truck…

Next is a report of a drunken student interrupting the rehearsal of an African American group. The student was removed from campus and his future will be determined by a student discipline process. Surely the President and a Chancellor should be fired for this.

At the homecoming parade, a group of students bearing Black Lives Matters paraphernalia blocked the car bearing University President Tim Wolfe. The car backed up, and then tried to inch forward. Activist Jonathan Butler jogs forwards and hits the car all but imperceptibly moving car. He Claims hit and run. You can see the video here. If he were to claim against the drivers insurance, he’d end up in jail for fraud. Two men should lose their jobs for this.

On the heels of the imaginary vehicular assault, we get the poopstika. The last few years have had quite a few well publicized racial incidents on college campuses that have turned out to be hoaxes. I’m not saying that a Nazi sympathizer didn’t grab a handful of shit and rub out a swastika on a bathroom wall, but let’s just say my suspicions are aroused.

One of the hallmarks of the racial hoax is overreach. The perpetrator, a progressive with an impeccable resume, loses patience with his community not providing evidence of the rampant racism he so voraciously knows is ubiquitous so he manufactures evidence to “raise awareness.”

One of the calling cards of the faux hate crime is the cartooning of the strawman perpetrator.

“I want to hatefuck Meg Lanker Simons so hard. That chick runs her liberal mouth all the time and doesn’t care who knows it. I think its so hot and makes me angry. One night with me and shes gonna be a good Republican bitch.”

Thus wrote Wyoming student Meg Lanke Simons in 2013. Sentence #1: Animal without reason. Sentence #2: Slightly flattering to the brave lass. Sentence #3: Animal without reason and slightly flattering to the brave lass. Sentence #4: Cartoon understanding of those who disagree with you.

So when you hear about a swastika drawn, allegedly by hand in shit, you have to ask why anyone, even a jackass Neo-Nazi would do such a thing. Does drawing a swastika with your own hand with your own crap stick it to a Jew or Black or does it just make your hand smell like shit? Do Neo-Nazis at Mizzou not have access to sharpies like the people who write asshole crap in every other public toilet in the country?

It may be that this was a full on skinhead attack, but it requires that the offender is not just a racist, but completely oblivious to physical disgust. It seems more likely that someone who wanted you to despise a person that they think would do such a thing rather than someone who would do such a thing did this particular thing.

  If I had the patience I’d go on about the unrelated but equally stupid protest at Yale, but I’m tired. You just can’t make this stuff up.

  There is the romance genre, the erotica genre, and then there is this. Chuck’s bio as well as his other titles are a must read. Not quite poetry, but as book titles go, you’de be hard pressed to find their equal. NSFW.

Fireworks of the nth degree.

What neanderthals sounded like is not quite what I’d expected, at least if this person is to be believed. But what to I know? I still pronounce the “th” in “neanderthals” as a “th.”

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