Tomato (canned), onion, oil, garlic, bay leaf, salt, pepper; pasta; Parmesan
REDSAUCE IS WHAT WE CALL IT, and we have it fairly often, though perhaps not as often as we should, as it's supposed to be particularly good for what ails you, and by "you" I mean me. I've never understood Lindsey's way of dicing an onion, but I generously let her do it her way: she cups a half onion in her left hand, makes parallel cuts through from the cut surface to nearly the end, then turns the thing ninety degrees and makes parallel cuts again; then slices off the resulting dice. Me, I put the onion on a board and dice it the usual way: but then, I'm not a pastry chef.
Whichever way, you brown the onion in the olive oil in the stainless steel skillet (this is one thing the black iron skillet won't work for), maybe add a little garlic, a can of tomatoes, salt and pepper, and cook it all down nice and slow while watching the Sox lick the Tigers. Toss it with the boiled pasta and grate good Parmesan cheese on it; complete your meal with the usual green salad. Green and red.
Tonight's salad came partly from our garden, first time this year -- a few leaves of curly lettuce, oakleaf, and a soft "Dutch" arugula. Nice.
The rest of the Preston Cinsault