A proper cool morning finally, the kind that made me glad I’d pulled the heavier blanket back out of the drawer. I took my coffee to the step and the neighbor’s cat came and sat with me for a bit, which I’ve decided counts as an appointment I should keep. The light’s gone that soft September gold, and I caught myself already planning which of the trees will turn first, the way I do every year and never get right.
The garden gave me its last handful of tomatoes before it gives up entirely, so I made a proper supper of them instead of letting them sit and soften on the counter. A slow pan of the ripest ones with garlic and a slick of olive oil, tossed through a pile of good pasta with the basil that survived the cutting back — the whole kitchen smelled like August one more time, just when September was trying to take over. I jarred the small extra sauce too, so some cold evening in January gets a little of today.
I was thinking, while it simmered, about how the same handful of ingredients turns into something completely different depending on how long you give it. That’s true of a pot of tomatoes and true of so much else — the things that reward patience are the ones that won’t be rushed. I’ve started keeping the same patience in small technical habits, like giving a long-running command a quick Ctrl+T to see how far it’s gotten instead of just staring at a blank line wondering. Not that I had a command running tonight. Just a pot, doing its quiet work. It came out exactly right, and I ate it standing at the counter, which is how you know it’s good.
Recipe: Last Tomatoes over Pasta
Ingredients
- 6 ripe tomatoes, roughly chopped
- 3 tablespoons olive oil
- 3 cloves garlic, sliced
- a handful of fresh basil leaves, torn
- a pinch of sugar
- salt and black pepper
- 300 g pasta (spaghetti or your favorite)
Preparation
- Warm the olive oil in a wide pan over medium heat and cook the garlic gently until fragrant, about a minute, without browning.
- Add the chopped tomatoes, sugar, and a good pinch of salt. Cook over medium-low heat, stirring now and then, until the tomatoes break down into a thick, jammy sauce, 15 to 20 minutes.
- Meanwhile, cook the pasta in well-salted water until just al dente. Reserve a cup of the pasta water.
- Toss the drained pasta with the sauce, adding a splash of the cooking water to loosen it, then fold in the basil and finish with black pepper and a little more olive oil. Serve right away.