This is highly recommended, a series where I provide a compelling argument for why you should like something that I like.
Dear Reader,
I hope you had something good for dinner last night. As much as I enjoy the first meal of the day, there’s something much more satisfying about ending your day with something delicious.
But satisfaction, especially in the form of food, can be very subjective. What’s satisfying to you is probably not satisfying to me. (My culinary desires are unconventional.) What’s “good” is often up for debate. What’s “nice” is not very clearly defined. But we can all agree that what’s “nice” is definitely “good”. Right?
By that logic, I had something good for dinner last night.
I highly recommend a nice pasta dish.
Why?
(I know that set-up made it sound like I was going to spend the bulk of this post defining a “nice” pasta dish. But since there are so many different ways that a pasta dish can be “nice”, I don’t think there’s a point. There is a point, however, to me continuing to write a blog that nobody reads. I’ll get to that point eventually.)
Room For Different Textures
You’ve got the pasta: soft but firm, just dense and chewy enough to not give your jaw a workout. You’ve got the vegetables: crisp and vibrant, just the right level of sautéed. You’ve got the meat: juicy but definitely not well-done. And you’ve got the cheese: shards of shredded goodness that melt into the optimal level of gooey over the course of your meal. I’m not a fan of complicated dishes. But even with all of these different things going on, a nice pasta dish isn’t complicated – it’s the best way to get a little bit of everything.
Room For Different Flavors
This should not be read as a justification for too many flavors. But a nice cocktail of a few carefully selected flavors can take a dish from edible to nice. Add some Italian sausage for a little sweet. Different kinds of cheese can combine for flavors you haven’t yet tasted. They can all work together to create one of the most vague but instantly-recognizable flavors: nice.
A Stable, Bland Base
If any of those flavors gets to be too overwhelming for my weak mouth, pasta gives me blandness I can rely on. As a proud Midwesterner, I’m not ashamed of my cravings for food without flavor. It’s not like those foods don’t have any discernible taste – it’s more that they taste like comfort. Who wouldn’t want to eat something that makes you feel the way you feel when you’re curled up with a good blanket and absent any anxiety? I don’t need my food to challenge me. There’s enough in life (namely the pressure to keep writing highly recommended) that does that already.
Healthy And Unhealthy At The Same Time
I’m no longer the 15 year old boy I used to be, which is great for a lot of reasons. Unfortunately, it means that my body can no longer handle eating the kind of garbage I used to covet. As foreign as it might have sounded 10 years ago, I crave vegetables now. They make me feel better when I eat them. But I can’t eat them all the time – I still need something unhealthy to make sure I don’t lose too much body fat. Carbs and cheese together with a nice assortment of vegetables gives me the best of both worlds in one bowl.
Easy To Make
Pasta used to be the only thing I could make. And by pasta, I mean literally just pasta – none of the other wonderful things I’ve detailed as components of a nice pasta dish. As I’ve grown in my culinary journey, my cooking skills have improved (Blue Apron, sponsor the pod). I can now chop vegetables. Cook meat. Put all of those things together in one pan with just the right amount of flavor. And I can do it with minimal effort. Which, if you’ve been a longtime highly recommended reader, you know is one of my favorite things.
There’s got to be one thing you don’t like about a nice pasta dish.
Eating Too Much
When you’ve got damn near unlimited quantities of something nice in front of you, it’s hard to put the fork down. I always think I can eat a lot more pasta than I’m physically able. No matter how many times I feel like I’m going to explode after that fourth serving, I eat just as much (if not more) the next time I make pasta. I will never learn. Honestly, I’m ok with that.
I know I said I wasn’t going to define a “nice” pasta dish. But after writing all of this, I’m hungry enough to divulge my dish from last night:
Fusilli pasta with sweet Italian sausage, broccoli with garlic and chili flakes and sun-dried tomatoes, all topped by freshly grated parmesan cheese.
Maybe I’ll cook it for you sometime. But only if you can prove you’re a loyal highly recommended reader. We all know the rule: no pasta for non-readers.
love,
nicholas