Pasta out of the Frig and Pantry

Boil the pasta, chop and cook whatever veg.  Dinner for one is served.

 As a young cook, I would marvel at my mother's ability to walk into a kitchen and come out with something good to eat.   While this doesn't sound like such a feat (there are many accomplished cooks in the world), she managed it when there didn't appear to be any food (that I could see) in there.  Well, of course there were milk, eggs and cheese in the frig.   In fact, there were often fresh eggs from her hens. There were root vegetables on the counter.  The deep freeze held fish she and my dad had caught and cartons of last summer's vegetables.  In the closet were shelves brimming with quart jars of canned tomatoes,  4oz jars of crab apple jelly, various sized containers of figs, as well as odds and ends -- batches of canning she'd done when someone had brought her half a bushel of something or other about to go bad.

Mom and nephew Michael

Last year, I read and reviewed a book called Lunch in Paris; A Love Story with Recipes  by Elizabeth Bard (the paperback version has come out recently), which is a memoir about an American  woman who falls in love with (eventually marries) a Frenchman named Gwendal.  Full of sweet, not-too-long-ago stories, each vignette ends with a recipe. One I  particularly liked:  Gwendal (who cooked for just himself often) was notorious for rummaging in the frig and coming up with a tasty pasta dish. All this when it looked like there was simply nothing to eat and a run for take-out must be attempted no matter the weather or time.

I tried my hand at Gwendal's pasta (blogged it once) and continue to do so because it quickly morphs into my pasta and will soon be yours.  See what you think. You, too, can learn to look around, grab a few things, and cook your dinner out of what you have.  Just like my mom or Gwendal.  Julia Child would say, "Have the courage of your convictions..."  and go for it.