When I got married, I got a lot of gifts.
I mean– a LOTTA gifts. I had my own friends and family. My husband’s friends and huge-ass Catholic family. And then, not one, but THREE groups of church ladies showering me: my own home church; my in-law’s Catholic church; and the church I was serving as an intern my last year of seminary.
Do the math. That’s a whole bunch of church ladies. And church ladies know how to show up with the presents. It’s a love language.
Some of those gifts are things that I use every day; some are fixtures in my house; some are things that either got “loved to death,” or didn’t make one of the 10 or so moves we’ve made in our 16 years of marriage. But one thing that has never failed me yet? “How To Cook Everything,” Mark Bittman’s staple cookbook.
My favorite dinner during tomato season (after, of course, the perfect BLT,) is his pasta with bacon, tomato and carmelized onion. But now I’m flipping through the cookbook, and for the life of me, I can’t find the recipe! I know this is where I got it, because I make it at least a couple of times every summer.
But you don’t really need a recipe. Here’s what you do:
Carmelize some onions in olive oil, which, let’s be honest, is kind of a bitch. You have to cut them evenly (who has time for that??), and cook them over low heat, stirring frequently, for… a long dang time. Like almost an hour.
Yeah, it’s a pain, but for this– I promise, it’s worth it. And that’s the only labor intensive thing you have to do. While that’s going on low, you can cook some bacon, and dice some tomatoes.
When the bacon is done, drain and set it aside so you can free up a burner. Boil some water (don’t strain yourself!) and cook a box of spaghetti or linguini according to package. While the pasta is cooking– you can do the math here, right?– add the diced tomatoes and crumble the bacon into the skillet with the onions. Cook over low heat for about 10-15 more minutes. It cooks into something resembling a bacon-tomato jam situation, and if there is anything more perfect than that, I don’t need to know about it.
Serve that mess over the pasta with an obscene amount of parmesean cheese; you might want some fresh ground black pepper to seal the deal; or maybe even some crushed red pepper for some heat? Either way, I promise you– your summer dinner rotation will never be the same. This is just… a level of food perfection I can’t even describe. And I know some words.
Here’s the catch though– nobody else in my family will eat this.
On the whole, I don’t live in a house full of picky eaters. But I have one #weirdvegetariankid (even though she will cave and try a bite of bacon every now and then because, and I quote, “it just smells amazing!!”); another kid who doesn’t like onions; and a husband who, Lord help me y’all, does not like tomatoes. I know. We all have our stuff. It’s a good thing he’s hot, is all I’m saying.
Do I let this unfortunate confluence of weirdness deprive me of my favorite pasta? Never!
Enter: the pasta bar situation.
I make all the stuff I mentioned above. I set aside some of the bacon, and some diced tomato. I cook a pan of roasted broccoli. I buy a jar of store-brand alfredo sauce, ($1.69 at Kroger, you’re welcome); and I let everybody assemble their own pasta perfection while I enjoy the fruits of summer labor– which, in this case, is a great tomato (with bacon and carmelized onions).
Bonus: if you have leftover bacon, broccoli, and/or tomato, you’ve got lunch taken care of tomorrow with: a great salad; a killer omelet; or the perfect pasta salad.
And that’s the beauty of the flexitarian lifestyle– it may seem like extra work sometimes to give people options. But ultimately, the food gets eaten; there are lots of veggies to go around; and a little extra prep and labor today amounts to a breakfast or lunch options tomorrow, so it all balances in the grand scheme of things.
And if not, I got to sip a little extra bourbon while cooking in my Dolly Parton apron, and there’s my Sunday night in a nutshell.
I didn’t have any leftovers of the bacon/tomato/onion situation because, when nobody else will eat it, I really just have to take one for the dang team. Tomorrow’s heartburn will be worth it.
myweirdvegetariankid 