The other day I was digging around a cupboard looking for some cables for my I-can’t-remember-what-gadget and I found a pasta cookbook which I had bought another lifetime ago.
Okay, fine … I exaggerate. But everything that I had done pre-baby does feel that way to me. I wonder how mothers with more than one kid feel when recalling things/events pre-babies?
So as I was saying, this pasta book just fell out of the cupboard and I had to flip through it, even though I had done that many times without ever cooking anything from the book. The photos are just great to look at!
Then I saw this simple recipe.
So I chucked the cookbook back to the cupboard and went straight to the kitchen. And chopped garlic. And boiled pasta. And the result was a mountain of pasta drizzled with lots of garlic-perfumed olive oil. And I took a bite. And I felt I was in heaven. And the alarm rang at 5.30 a.m. And I crashed back to earth. And I packed this for our princess in her bento box.
Pork sausages, broccoli and roasted garlic for her to go with her pasta.
When our princess came home, she decreed that should we ever make this pasta again that the pasta should be packed to the brim. She hates it when she doesn’t get her fill.