Exactly one week and a day ago a dear friend visited me at my apartment. We were finally able to schedule a date — a true miracle, considering both of our full, scribbled-on, highlighted, white-outed, re-written-upon calendars (at least that’s how I organize my calendar. I’m sure hers is much tidier). So excited was I to see this dear friend, that I cleaned my apartment and agreed to cook a meal with her, rather than order-in, which is always my favorite way to dine. We borrowed a delicious recipe from Lauren’s Latest, a blog full of fancy, feasible feasts. And so, I am out of my element, both in the kitchen, and in the realm of food-blogging, but here goes. Please don’t compare too closely. Our recipe practically mimics Lauren’s, with the exception of salt and pepper, which we didn’t realize we’d forgotten until we’d made it halfway through our dishes. Bon Appetit!
I’ll spare you the recipe itself, which you can find at Lauren’s Latest, and provide for you the unscripted version. It’s a little less refined, but just as tasty:
“I don’t know, but flip it over.”
How I got out of chopping and mincing is beyond me, but my guest took on the task with a fervor never before seen at my kitchen counter.
*Note: no baby carrots were harmed during the documentation of this blog.
Next came the covering of the peppers, once out of the oven. I’m not entirely sure why this was necessary, but the scent of in-house roasted red peppers was like a gentle blanket of sweetness warming the entire apartment.
And you wouldn’t believe how easy it is to do this yourself. I’m a huge fan of roasted red peppers… and thrilled am I to know how to make them myself now! Just remember to shut off your oven when you’re done (Roasted Red Peppers Roast at 500º F).
*Note: Peeling the skin off these suckers is like man-handling a squid.
While you or your kitchen buddy — by now, we are co-sous chefs — peels the peppers, the other must begin to brown the onions and garlic via the sautéing method.
Next we combine everything into one pan, cooking it to perfection, then blend all of our ingredients to a pulp. (Actually, Lauren uses an immersion blender, but considering this is my first time pureeing anything fancier than margarita mix, ice, and tequila, we settle for our stand-up blender, and watch as our concoction turns a pleasant shade of pink, similar to vodka sauce.
Oh, yea, at some point you need to cook pasta. Thank goodness for my guest’s vast knowledge of Italian cooking, otherwise, it would be me and the pasta, as per usual, duking it out over a pot of too-little water, and forgetfulness.
Finally, our meal is ready for consumption, and approximately 1 hour later (a feat for me. Any homemade meal whose prep time surpasses 15 minutes is usually scoffed at and abandoned immediately) we sit down to enjoy a well-deserved dish that is ONLY lacking a side of greasy garlic bread (and salt/pepper).
Well done, dear friend. — Until next time, folks!





