How I make spaghetti with tomato
First, I gather the requisite courage and and ring the neighbour’s doorbell because I need some olive oil. Half-successful, I return with an almost rectangular chunk of butter. My children would probably have tried a second door. An oversized stage for an imaginary Italian opera singer melts in the scorching heat of the pan. I quickly chop the onions and hastily add them to the pan before the butter burns. Actually, I had resolved to allow more feelings and to make time for them. But this time, only a little tear. Then I realise that I haven't bought any vegetables, so I add just the diced tomato chunks and the garlic and let the sauce simmer on low heat. Next, I put some water on to boil. It lies there quietly, allowing a glimpse into the subconscious, like a lake just before a terrible storm is about to break out, or perhaps rather an underground volcano - a biblical catastrophe.
I open the cupboard and look at the spaghetti packet. They lie there so peacefully, a strong community. They don't have to compare themselves to each other - within their pack there is no perfidy and no envy. Even within the larger food group, they are one big whole; each variety has its own place in society. Do they know what is in store for them now?
When I hear the water start to
boil, I quickly turn away from the stove, obscuring the line of sight, tear the
packet in two, whirl around and throw 500 gram into the bubbling flood. 461
stalwart spaghetti resist— they surely are
dramatic in nature.
Their last silent aria, which lasts 9-12 min depending on the conductor, as if this were predestined. But then the initial chorale turns into a wild chaotic and even passionate dance, half fighting half loving in a salty embrace, a brilliant spectacle is offered until the spray hisses and pours over the edge of the pot.
I now put a stop to this spectacle
and pour the spaghetti through a pasta strainer and deglaze it briefly. I set
the table and now there is another martial spectacle as the tomato sauce
unfolds with the pasta into a medieval battlefield diorama.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t taste good because I went overboard with the salt.