Death by fruit, part 3; dinner; goodbye

You guys, I've started to resent the fruit. The blackberries, raspberries, purple plums, most yellow plums and the majority of peaches and tomatoes are successfully put away. It has been a damn marathon. Mostly fun, now less so. 

Today I made lightly spiced plum jam, froze an arseload of peaches and berries and made a peach-blackberry pie which is, admittedly, divine. The highlight was the off-the-hook fabulous tomato-saffron tomato sauce I put atop paccheri for dinner. Blissful. Every single bite.

peach and blackberry pie, pre-top crust

paccheri with tomato-saffron sauce

Because I am now retching on the couch whilst trying to block my ears from the Republican clown car "debate," I am going to go pack because I leave for Amherst, MA, first thing in the morning. 

Why am I going, you might wonder? I am heading to what promises to be an amazing writing retreat with the inestimable Jena Schwartz and six incredible women I've gotten to know by writing with her. We are heading there tomorrow, like bees to a hive, to connect, write and laugh for forty-eight glorious hours. I'm so lucky! 

I'm considering taking the weekend off from Em-i-lis so that I can leave my laptop at home and simply be present there. If I'm radio silent until Sunday night, that's why. 

Thank you to everyone who read my essay on Mamalode today and showered me with love and support about it. Love you back! And I'm so glad it resonated with you.

Mamma mia, questa pasta!

Sometime in the past six months, a Florentine woman became an Em-i-lis reader and is, now, a friend. In that funny, to-be-determined web way. She doesn't know my sister, and vice versa (so that's not the link), but it is my hope that all of us can meet in person at some point next time I'm in Florence. This kind of improbable connection is yet another reason I love the internet.

Eli recently told me that she believes Garofalo makes the best dried pasta. I wasn't familiar with it so did some research. It's a company based in Gragnano, a Neopolitan town named for wheat (grano), and that has been making pasta for more than two hundred years. 

It's not available locally (as far as I could find) but you can order it via amazon, and so I did. Though I'm not a penne fan, the variety pack appealed to me because you cannot go wrong with gemelli and casarecce (similar to strozzapreti). 

This evening, having cooked all day and then realizing T and I were hungry yet unprepared for dinner, I figured, "What better time to try a new pasta?" and so chose the gemelli.

I had some tomatoes that needed to be used and while basil is not yet in season, thyme always is, and keeping old Parmesan and Pecorino rinds in your fridge saves the day on a regular basis. Long story short, it was easy enough to whip up a fresh tomato sauce, and boy were we glad I did so.

This pasta is delicious. It's the sort in which al dente means toothsome but not remotely underdone. That's a tough line to bridge, so bravo Garofalo. I mean, you can see the texture in my photo, yes?? Creamy but firm, magnificent!

Mille grazie, Eli, per la tua raccomandazione. 

Holy Melanzane

Ok, not an exact rhyme, but what rhymes with eggplant? Melanzane has much more going for it as a word. Meh-lahn-zahn-ay. So much prettier than egg-plant. Melanzane lilts, it rolls and sings somewhat seductively. Egg-plant makes me think of the sound that must be made when a large elephant sits down. Why am I going on about eggplant? Well, because friend M is away and asked if I would "do her the favor of eating from her garden." Um, yes! She and her fam have an incredibly productive plot that's smaller than my dining room table. I mean, talk about super-farmers. Their microfarm has tidy rows that maintain their cute little mounds as plants thrive like Jack's bean stalk. It's unreal.

M said there might be a few eggplant ready by today and also the herbs need pruning. Good god, people, look at this! We're having eggplant involtini tonight with homemade tomato sauce from friend A's tub o' toms. I also swiped a handful of sage as well as some basil to make plum-basil jam today. I am thanking the goddess of fruit that the peaches I picked on Friday are not yet quite ripe enough to deal with. Whew. I overpicked to a slight degree. Mercifully, the raspberries have thus far been happy in the fridge. Today I'll put them up too!

Look what I made for dinner last night. Apparently bucatini with fresh tomato sauce is the only pasta I can successfully make with regularity. So, again, but who's complaining!?

I am still high as a kite re: Benedict. This morning, Jack asked, "Just why do you think Benedict so much, Mom? I mean, you're the greatest mom ever but why?" I blushed and had no real answer. Think I stammered something like, "Well, you'll really like and admire people too as you grow. And also he's so cute." And I then ran out of the kitchen. So embarrassing.