Redsauce

Eastside Road, July 28, 2011—

NOBODY, HE SAID, could call me a fussy man. That's the King speaking, of course, in A.A. Milne's poem “The King's Breakfast,” which delighted me when I was a little boy — as many vegetables did not. I suppose I am still fussy about some of them, including squash, which is what we started dinner with tonight. Summer squash — “pattypan”— was always one of my least favorites, but there it was: and once past the texture I have to admit it was tasty. (Olive oil and garlic help.)

Then it was penne in tomato sauce, very long-cooked tomato sauce, an old standby here, and green salad, the first leaves from those delicious speckled Forellenschluss lettuces that I set out a couple of weeks ago. Blackberries and mulberries for dessert.

Aglianicom Epicuro, 2008 (a tiny bit sweet, but solid and hearty)

The King said,
"Bother!"
And then he said,
"Oh, deary me!"
The King sobbed, "Oh, deary me!"
And went back to bed.
"Nobody,"
He whimpered,
"Could call me
A fussy man;
I only want
A little bit
Of butter for
My bread!"