Tasty, Tasty Melodies pt. 2

I used to live alone, in my own little apartment before moving in with Roommate.

Living on your own makes for a lot of culinary experimentation - at least in my case, which means a lot of failures. I laugh now, but I was almost in tears when I scraped away bits of burned caserole that I had spent hours preparing.

But that's what you do: you make, you fail. You try again. You do better.

My mother is an amazing cook, and either through genetics or osmosis, I've picked up her innate sense of seasoning, and the ability to turn a few sad little ingredients into something good. I owe her a lot for every time someone takes a bite of something I've made and goes "wow". And for remembering that preparing food is not only about picking fresh ingredients and not adding too much salt, but the intention with which you make it. Food tastes better when prepared with - prepare yourself - love. Cheesy? Of course. But it's true.

One thing I neglected to do when I cooked for myself sometimes was the love. I'd toss a few things together, and hope they'd keep me full. Or, I'd get on the phone for some takeout.

One time, though, I came home exhausted, sad and needing to take care of myself. There had been rough times with a boyfriend, and I had walked home, anticipating calling the Chinese place down the street.

And then, I remembered. I am alone. I need to eat. And I need to eat well.

So, I cranked Mother Mother, and made this pasta sauce. O My Heart is a very punchy album, and tastes like red sauce to me. With kamut spaghetti.

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Note that this is for one person, so make it for yourself, and spend some me time. Or, multiply it if you must for others.

I'm using sauce out of a jar for a base, but I love making it 100% from scratch. It takes time, so if you're really hungry, swallow the pride and just go for the jar stuff.

The "O My Heart" Pasta for the Lone Diner

Basic Sauce
- 1 cup pasta sauce (I love the Paul Newman Bombolina sauce. It's a tomato basil, so it's basic.)
- 1/8 cup red wine
-2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/2 red onion, chopped
- 1 teaspoon black pepper
- pinch of cayenne pepper
- salt to taste
- 1/2 teaspoon chili flakes (go for a quarter if you're not a spicy type)
- 1/2 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 teaspoon rosemary (1 1/2 if fresh)

Suggestions for Add-ins (pick a few, and then adjust spices accordingly)
- Veggie ground round (original - less salty), ground chicken, etc. (pick one, and then use between 1/8 and 1/4 pounds, depending on how much meat you want. Cook it alone and add it in)
- Diced mushrooms (add after the onions)
- Red bell pepper (ditto)

Pasta
My favourite type of pasta is kamut. It's a whole grain alternative to wheat, and it is delicious. This sauce is strong, and white pasta probably won't cut it, and I strongly suggest a whole grain of some kind. Follow the package directions for your choice.

1. Over a medium heat, with the olive oil, fry up them onions. The red onion lends a sweetness to the sauce that is otherwise very robust. Keep them on their own until they're fairly tender. Add garlic. Turn the heat down just a bit to prevent it from burning. Stir for a few minutes.

2. Add the sauce, and stir. Start adding the spices, gradually. Because this is your sauce, make it just the way you want. A really good way to do the spices is to mix them all together in a small bowl and add pinches, tasting until you like what's going on. Pre-prepared sauces will also have a certain amount of salt, so make sure you know what you're dealing with before you add any.

3. This is my favourite part: add the wine, take the burner down to a low heat, and let that bad boy simmer. Take a sec here to check on your pasta, and to make a nice place setting for yourself.

4. After five minutes, it should be ready to go. Pour it over the pasta, add some parm, and eat. And, for Pete's sake, enjoy it. Don't do anything except eat.

Here's a cool version of of "Burning Pile" from OMH.