Monday February 21st
A large pile of miscellaneous cookbooks sits on a side table in the small red room where we watch television most evenings, to give me inspiration. The room has one wall full of books, others crowded with paintings and during Covid has become the place we spend most time when actually sitting down. Today, tired of wondering what to make for the next meal, I opened one of the books, beautifully illustrated, and gazed at the photographs of food. The book itself is beautifully designed as are the full-page photographs, but a plate of pasta caught my eye, bright beetroot red with mounds of basil on top, how hard could that be I murmured to myself. Caz is coming for lunch, my daughter with the discerning palate, and it’s time to try something new.
I read the recipe a couple of times that instructed to clean raw beets and shave them into a thousand pieces then boil for fifteen minutes until done, but my Farmer’s Vegetable Box each week always has beets which are immediately roasted and put in the fridge to be eaten eventually. I chopped half a dozen dark red small roasted beets into the blender with fifteen ounces of ricotta cheese. It is a long time since I have cooked with ricotta and had forgotten how it quickly it becomes voluminous. Soon I had a blender jug full of bright red sauce and thought that next time, half the amount of ricotta would do. It was a little sweet for my taste, so I added the juice of two ripe lemons from a friend’s tree. The recipe said to add parmesan, fresh green basil and chopped, toasted almonds when serving; the photograph showed sprinkles of these sitting on top of the pasta that becomes deep beet pink as it is immersed in the sauce. Lemon zest was the last ingredient to be added as one eats.
I cooked the hot pasta and poured the sauce over the top and watched as the noodles absorbed the sauce completely and became a luscious deep dark reddish pink. ‘Add just a little more sauce’ I thought. The grated parmesan was gently stirred into the pasta and disappeared, and I transferred the pasta to a pale turquoise bowl and served it to John and Caz. Astonishment greeted the softly colored noodles, now with a heap of bright green basil leaves on top and a dish of chopped walnuts waiting to be added. John gently put all the ingredients into the pasta, stirred and served everyone a plate of food. Silence descended as we each tentatively tasted this deep pink delight in front of us. Caz’s face broke into a grin, ‘Mum’ she said, ‘this is absolutely delicious, well done’. I was paid the ultimate compliment as she took out her phone and took a photograph, laughter broke out as we added more lemon zest and dug into the gorgeous food in front of us. Some days, experimenting just works.
