He asks me to make the ragú. I ask him how. “You make ragú,” he says. So I walk home and look it up. I put oil in a pan and cook onions and garlic and tomato. I add salt and pepper. In a stroke of inspiration, I add dried porcini. I let it simmer. He comes home and smells it. Looks at it. Tastes it. He adds parsley and dill and tahini and salt and pepper and tomato and thyme and prunes and olives and za’atar and butter and paprika and red wine and parmesan. I boil water for pasta (he adds more salt and oil). It is very good ragú.
2 thoughts on “#49”
xD this is pretty great, especially if it is about who I think it is about!
It is indeed!