I have zero appetite. Zero. I forced myself tonight to make something and then not eat it standing over the sink, as I usually do. As I have written, I have rather lost my interest in cooking. But… for the sake of decorum, and to militate against barbarism…
Not quite focused, but onion, garlic, bacon well-browned.
I deglazed with a cup of white wine and ground in black pepper.
Added canned tomatoes and chopped at them for a while with my small but valuable spatchula.
Since I was already committing Italian cooking heresy, I went all the way.
I picked some fresh basil, first of the year. Again… heresy, but, herbs are good.
Herbs chopped and something cheesy labelled “pecorino”, domestic and unworthy of the name, grated…
See the butter? It doesn’t belong in this sauce. Nevertheless, when you add the cheese, with butter, this is a technique called “manticare”. It produces a velvety texture. This is heresy also for this style, but… I was in a mood and threw things at the sauce.
Stir it in. Put it in a bowl. Eat.
Note my enthusiasm.
Poor man’s bucatini all’amatriciana, loosely so-called, made in a brutal manner.