Of all sauces for pasta, marinara is the easiest. If your mother forgot to teach you how to make spaghetti sauce, here’s the recipe for you.

Learn from me, dear readers.  DO NOT watch FOOD NETWORK after 10pm!  Last week there was a Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives marathon on, and I was only about 20 minutes into it when I could no longer resist the call of the kitchen.  Unfortunately, raw materials were limited, so instead of replicating the corned beef and cabbage, baked mac and cheese, polenta, and stuffed meatballs Guy Fieri was lucky enough to inhale, I was stuck sucking down three slices of garlic bread and a handful of peanut butter chips.  Not quite up to my usual standards, and also slightly embarrassing.  Yet still most satisfying!

Changing topics now.  Marinara sauce is something you can always put to good use.  And a simple homemade spaghetti sauce recipe is something every cook should have committed to memory.  Of course you can use it to top pasta, but don’t stop there.  Slather up a grilled vegetable sandwich, or just drop in some meatballs and Italian sausages, heat it up, and eat it straight from the pot right there over the sink!

As you can see from the above, I used this batch of sauce for sandwiches (sausage, cheese, bell pepper and onion) and got the big thumbs up from MG.  Wrap these babies in foil and cook at 400 F for about thirty  to forty minutes.  Good hot, good cold the next day, good at 4 am in the morning when your building’s fire alarm goes off and you want to nosh on something while standing in your slippers on the street.

Simple Marinara Sauce Recipe

• 2 (14.5 ounce) cans stewed tomatoes
• 1 (6 ounce) can tomato paste
• 4 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1 teaspoon dried oregano
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 6 tablespoons olive oil
• 1/3 cup finely diced onion
• 1/2 cup white wine

In a food processor place Italian tomatoes, tomato paste, chopped parsley, minced garlic, oregano, salt, and pepper. Blend until smooth.

In a large skillet over medium heat saute the finely chopped onion in olive oil for 2 minutes. Add the blended tomato sauce and white wine.

Simmer for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.  Remove from heat and let cool for several minutes before serving.

This is an improvement over what I did in my twenties when I was depressed, which was smoke grass, drink martinis and watch television until I either fell asleep or threw up.

Ah, the glamour of the twenties!

So I don’t plan too many structured events on the weekends anymore because they’ve become mostly about me and MG making fattening breakfasts, having coffee at The Big Fixx on Sunset (formerly Abbot’s Habit), watching television together and seeing who can win in the categories of “Snarkiest Comment,” “Best Impression of a Loser Celebrity.” and “Most Accurate Representation of What the Cat in the Cat Food Commercial would Sound Like if It Could Speak Human.”

Then we separate for a few hours in the middle of the day so he can get some work done, I’ll get together everything I need to make the night’s dinner, and we reconvene for more television, snarky comments and cocktails.

But none of that happened this past weekend, and by noon on Saturday I’d done all my grocery shopping, all my laundry, hit the post office and the dry cleaner, worked out, erased said workout by stopping at Carl’s Jr., tried to get my cat to eat a french fry and took a nap.

I had absolutely nothing else on my “to do” list for the entire weekend, so of course I spent it in the kitchen, making this meal, along with some other goodies that are being banked away for later postings. But MG wasn’t there to admire my kitchen technique, or rave about the finished meal after snaring his usual lion-sized portion, so it wasn’t nearly as gratifying and I have WAY TOO MUCH left over.

With each passing kitchen attempt I’m becoming more and more fascinated with perfecting the process than I am with actually feasting on the finished result. I’d much prefer to give the food itself over to someone else for them to enjoy, and just stay in the kitchen and tackle the next recipe on my long long list. Anyone else feel that way?

Farfalle with Sage, Peas and Bacon

• 14 ounces farfalle pasta
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 8 slices streaky bacon, chopped
• 1 garlic clove, finely chopped
• 1 cup heavy cream
• 5 ounces peas, thawed if frozen
• 2 1/2 ounces parmesan cheese, freshly grated, plus extra to sprinkle
• 1 small handful sage leaf, and flat-leaf parsley leaves

Bring a pot of salted water to the boil. Add in the farfalle and cook according to packet instructions until the pasta is al dente

Heat the oil in another pan and add the bacon. Fry over high heat for 3 – 4 minutes until the bacon is golden brown.

Add the garlic and fry for a minute. Pour in the cream and bring to the boil. Let simmer for 5 minutes until reduced and thickened slightly.

Tip in the peas, bring back to a simmer and cook for another 3- 4 minutes. Stir the grated parmesan into the sauce, then taste and adjust the seasoning.

When the pasta is ready, drain it in a colander and immediately add it into the sauce.
Add the herbs, then toss the pasta until well coated with the creamy sauce.

Divide among warm plates and sprinkle over a little more parmesan to serve.

Feel better, MG!

Were these NOT the same things that occasionally grew on the corners of our front lawn? Were these NOT the same things dad warned me away from because of their possibly poisonous nature?

Was my mother out to kill me?

Well no, in fact, they were NOT the same things as the possibly toxic (but probably not) varieties making homes out front the house. And I quickly understood that. But divorcing myself from a distatse, an almost irrational fear of the mushroom, has taken me decades.

I pick them off pizza. I fish them out of salads. And pack anything you damn well want into the caps, heat them up and drop them in front of me. I’ll suck on my sneaker instead.

And yet… I could not get this recipe out of my head. Maybe a mushroom on its own didn’t sound all that hot, but mushrooms with wine, pasta, cheese, and onions? This is something a spore-bearing fungus hater might be able to get behind.

Mom has often told me I was missing the boat on mushrooms. This patsa dish looked and sounded so rewarding that maybe, I thought to myself, just maybe, this would be the meal that could lead me to welcoming mushrooms into my kitchen on a regular basis.

And it was! Moms always know.

Mushroom Marsala with Artichoke Hearts  From Smitten Kitchen

• 4 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 small onion, finely chopped
• 1 pound mushrooms, trimmed, cleaned and finely chopped
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt, and 1 tablespoon of same for pasta water
• 1 cup Marsala wine (dry)
• 1 pound pasta of your choice
• 1/2 pound artichoke hearts
• 3/4 cup grated Parmesan
• 1 cup cream (doubling Smitten’s measurement)
• 1/2 cup chopped flat leaf parsely
• 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

If you’re not as unfamiliar with mushroom preparation as I am, you can skip this part. I had no idea how to prep them. Never run them under water, as they will just soak it right up and turn to mush. Various stops on the web produced two methods – a slightly damp cloth or paper towel, or simply brushing any dirt off with a pastry brush, which was the option I took.
Stemming is easy. Hold the cap in one hand and with the other yank the stem up and down a few times, then give it a slight twist. It will pop right off. Between these beauties and the onion, I got in some good chopping time. Always a highlight to an evening for me.

Once everthing is cut, start boiling your pasta water (add the 1 tablespoon of kosher salt). Heat your oil on medium in a heavy skillet. Smitten recommends the onions go in first and cook solo for one minute before you add the shrooms, but I missed that step and threw both in at the same time. Didn’t seem to make much of a difference.

Let the mixture cook for about ten minutes, stirring occasionally, or until all the moisture has evaporated and the mushrooms have cooked down. The aroma at this point will be heavenly, but don’t invite the neighbors over yet because it gets even better once you add the wine!

Add in the Marsala and let it cook until almost all the wine has evaporated. Marsala is made with Sicilian grapes and fortified with brandy that converts the sugar into a higher alcohol content. This step took me about eight minutes.

Drop your pasta into the boiling water and cook until tender – about ten minutes. Drain and add into the mushroom-onion mixture along with the parmesan, the cream and the artichoke hearts. Mix well and cook for another 5 minutes. Season with parsley and pepper (I chopped the parsley but forgot to throw it in). Makes 4-6 servings.