Smashed

When the end of the week rolls around, especially if it's been a 15-day week, I don't so much walk home from my job as trudge. That's right, folks, I'm a trudger. I drag my feet, I stomp, I huff and puff. If it's really warm outside, I'm probably sweating. Essentially, at the end of the week I become a crotchety old man, at least on the walk from the Sterling station to my apartment (on the third floor, can you believe it? Oh, the misery). Overall I'd say it's about the dopiest I ever look, and god bless (and god save) the poor soul who finds it appealing in any way.

The rest of my routine is pretty straightforward: I go directly to the cupboard, retrieve a wine glass, fill 'er up, gulp 'er down. Then fill 'er up. Then gulp 'er down. Interspersed with the fill-and-gulp (which sounds rather unfortunately like a new dance craze made perhaps most popular around petrol station convenience stores) is an episode of tv, a chapter of a book, and dinner, which doesn't generally require anything other than a pot, a jaunt through my fridge and a fork. Maybe another episode, possibly another chapter though by this time my eyes have generally glazed over, and to bed, to bed, to bed.

At the end of last work-week, though, I was pleasantly surprised. On my walk from the job to the subway, the lights all turned green for me, which was very polite. I was half-expecting a lamppost to throw down its coat to prevent my dainty feet from touching one of the many puddles on the rainy, dreary day. I also found a penny in the street and then another one on the subway stairs, and I'm proud of my superstition and you'd better believe I picked both of them up and straight into pockets and purse. I passed several games of Double Dutch despite the rain, and you've gotta hand it to those shrill little voices, they've got spirit if nothing else. I think it's even fair to say that my step picked up a bit, edged on by the screams and rhymes, hey, I was nostalgic for the rope I never jumped as a young girl in the suburbs of Chicago.

So I grooved on into my kitchen, tween temporarily overtaking curmudgeon, and rifled around in my refrigerator for some ingredients to compliment my mood, which was almost carefree and helped along by the obligatory wine and extreme gummy bears I practically chugged upon realizing that I still had a stash. I came up with an onion, some lovely grape tomatoes, both yellow and red, garlic, mozzarella, and basil...and decided to make a sauce for the fresh-ish tagliatelle I'd picked up at Eataly earlier in the week. Generally my favorite spaghetti would be enough, but I felt like putting pan to heat on this particular day and I also felt like demolition 'cause young souls can jump rope and yelp and destroy and feel no guilt. So a mass of caramelized onions later, I poured the unsuspecting tomatoes into the mix, let them get soft, and mashed the shit out of them with my tongs. I ended up wearing much of it and burning my arms with the wayward juices of several of the violated fruits, but I suppose I deserved it. I also cut up a radish and dragged it through the melting butter on the onions, sprinkled it with salt and ate it down, followed by a glug of wine. I'm not really sure what's wrong with me.

Smashed Tomato Sauce

This sauce is totally all-purpose. You can throw it on pasta, as I did, or put it on toasted bread, or puree it into a soup, or serve it on top of grilled fish, chicken, beef...it's just brilliant. Caramelizing the onions was kind of a tough decision on my part, because they become a relatively strong presence, but if you think about the beauty of soft, jammy, sweet-as-candy onions up against the acidity of just-seared tomatoes, the bite of torn basil and the slight give of fresh pasta, it makes some sense (maybe I know what I'm doing). The sauce gets better as it sits, so make a bunch and keep it in your refrigerator for a few days. And hey -- tomatoes are good all summer long, so try different varieties.

Serves 2, several times

1 tbsp. olive oil
1 medium-sized onion, sliced into thin half-moons
1 tbsp. butter
5 large cloves garlic, sliced fine
1.5 cups or so of ripe pear, teardrop, cherry, grape (etc) tomatoes
Handful of torn fresh basil
salt to taste

Heat a large skillet, add olive oil and onions. Season with salt and add a splash of water. Over low heat, cook onions, adding more water as necessary so they don't burn (remember to stir!). When they're translucent add butter and garlic, and cook until deep brown and very sweet (adding more water as it evaporates, and keep stirring, please!). Add tomatoes, push them to the bottom of the pan and cover them with onion mixture. Cover pan for about three minutes, until tomato skin starts to blister and tear. Using tongs or the back of a wooden spoon, gently squeeze tomatoes just until they break. Add more salt if needed and stir in the basil.

Serving Suggestions:
-Pour over al dente pasta and cubed mozzarella, stirring until the mozzarella just begins to melt (see below)

-Cut a good ole loaf of bread into slices, put in oven/under broiler/on grill (400 degrees) until charred, rub bread with a garlic clove and drizzle with olive oil (you know the drill), and top with sauce
-Puree mixture, or most of mixture, and add a splash of cream for lovely tomato soup
-Spoon over grilled poultry, steak or fish
-Use as omelet filling, along with some cheese
-Make a sandwich with sauce, spinach, cheese, ciabatta, meats, etc.