Penne

Eastside Road, February 17, 2013—

A FEW SCRAPS OF bacon, browned in the stainless-steel skillet. A good-sized yellow onion, diced, softened in the bacon fat. Three Roma tomatoes halved, quartered, diced. A tablespoonful or so — I measure it out in the cupped palm of my hand — of red pepper flakes. Salt, of course.

If I'd had some cream I'd have added it, but I didn't, and nonfat milk doesn't substitute. I just cooked the penne — or, more truthfully, watched Lindsey cook them — and then drain them and combine them with the sauce in the skillet. And that was dinner, with a green salad afterward, and maybe later a chocolate truffle.

Oh: yesterday. Well, we made do with some tamales Lindsey found in the freezer. I don't know where they came from; they weren't very good.

Barbera d'Asti, Rocco dell'Olmo, 2010: sound and serviceable