On Being (a Gourmand):

[Mundus Imbroglio]

Author's Note: It seems that getting pictures on the forum is somewhat more complicated than I am presently prepared to deal with.

Risotto con Verdure dal Congelatore

To make this dish, you first must accept that somewhere along the line you became the kind of horrible person that spends all your money on books and cameras and wine and books and such, and has to scrounge for food because would you just look at the price of potatoes these days!?!

Risotto con Verdure dal Congelatore is a spiritual descendant of the "Whatever the Hell's in the Fridge" gumbo that we all fondly remember from when we first struck out on our own and realized that come the first of the month someone shows up to take all of your food money.  It differs, though, in that now you're the kind of person who has fourteen different kinds of vinegar and eight different types of rice in the pantry.

To begin, find the lid to the enormous Dutch oven sitting menacingly in the corner.  Or a cast-iron skillet.  Or the $3 Ikea skillet you bought as a high school for that one cooking project and inexplicably still have.  Basically, something with sides that you can stick over a burner without immediately setting your apartment on fire.  Got it?  Good.  Stick it on the range and crank up the heat underneath.

Open your freezer and start rooting around—we both know that there are large bags of frozen vegetables sitting in the back, taking up space, and desperately wishing to be in some way involved in the kitchen—it's their lucky day!   Grab your onions and tomato and spinach, or your kale and broccoli and carrots, or some other combination of vegetables that sounds like it can fend of scurvy until payday, and throw them in the pan with a generous pour of olive oil.  Scrumble it up with a wooden spoon, and let the vegetables thaw and begin to cook.

Once they vegetables have started to heat up, throw in a few handfuls of rice--Arborio if you're feeling particularly fancy--and a few heavy pours of whatever stock or broth happens to be laying around.  Or a bouillon cube and some water.  Maybe water and some balsamic vinegar.  Some sort of liquid that has any kind of flavor.  Dump some dried rosemary and thyme on top of whole affair, mix it again, and let it cook until the liquid is almost gone, then pour a little more in.  Continue this process until the rice is soft and edible.

Top with leftover chicken and black pepper.  Serve with the beer that's been in the back of your refrigerator for as long as you can remember.  Remember to buy food next payday.

[Freeky]

   That sounds delicious.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

This sounds EASY.

[LMNO]

NO!  FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THATS HOLY, NO!

[The Good Reverend Roger]

NO!  FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THATS HOLY, NO!

Keelin already told me no. 

[Junkenstein]

NO!  FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THATS HOLY, NO!

Keelin already told me no. 

SCIENCE DEMANDS SUFFERING.

[Q. G. Pennyworth]

NOBODY LET ROGER IN THE KITCHEN!

[Eater of Clowns]

I THINK YOU COULD PULL THIS ONE OFF ROGER

[LMNO]

I THINK YOU COULD PULL THIS ONE OFF ROGER

[Junkenstein]

I THINK YOU COULD PULL THIS ONE OFF ROGER

EASILY.

[Q. G. Pennyworth]

I THINK YOU COULD PULL THIS ONE OFF ROGER

EASILY.

[Junkenstein]

This is exactly the kind of shit that keeps good Reptoids from kitchens everywhere.

It's just not right.

[Mundus Imbroglio]

  That sounds delicious.

It was pretty good, but I would recommend making sure that left-overs aren't a thing--I'm not a fan of reheated risotto.

This sounds EASY.

YES.  MAKE THIS WITH IRON AND FIRE AND RAGE!

[Mundus Imbroglio]

Right, so today we're going to talk about pasta...of the evening.  That's right—PASTA PUTTANESCA!  It's fast!  It's cheap!  It's easy!  It's boozy!  It's comforting after a shitty goddamn day!  Let's all gather round and make some goddamn pasta puttanesca.

To begin with, find a mortar and pestle.  Or a cutting board and a meat tenderizer.  Also find some ingredients—garlic, cherry tomatoes, anchovies (YES GODDAMMIT!), olives, and capers.  Stick a heavy skillet on very low heat and give it a few serious glugs of olive oil.  Peel the garlic, drop it into your mortar, and start smashing.  Crush it real good, like it's responsible for all of the bad things that happen to you.  Then throw it in the olive oil and let it sit.  Cut the tomatoes in half and throw them in with the garlic.  Then smash the rest of the ingredients and add them to the party.  Turn up the heat until the liquid pooling in the bottom of the pan starts to simmer angrily, then toss in some FUCKIN' GHOST CHILIES!  Or some red pepper flakes.  Y'know.  That's okay too, I guess.  Leave it at a low simmer until the tomatoes are mostly broken down and the pan is basically saucy.  The anchovies will melt and magically make everything just...better.  But not fishy.  It's a mystery.  Deglaze the pan with a healthy pour of wine.  Let it simmer down again.
   
Drain the pasta that I'm sure has just finished cooking to be a little underdone.  I like spaghetti.  Find what you like.  Throw it in the sauce, tear up some fresh basil, and mix it all together.  Let the pasta finish cooking in the sauce.  Mix it up again, dump onto a plate, top with more fresh basil and grated cheese and serve with crusty garlic bread and the rest of the wine.
   
Note: My audience for this meal has suggested that even though she "doesn't like shrimp," shrimp would go well with this.  This will be an entry in the future because that can only end well for me.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Stick a heavy skillet on very low heat .

This is usually the part where things go horribly, horribly wrong.