Old west leather gear & a Sicilian recipe that will make your ears wiggle.
When Mike Rivers invited me to his blog for an author spotlight, he also asked me for a guest post article. “Oh, jeez,” I said. “I’m terrible at thinking up topics for guest essays.”
But Mike is a great host. He wouldn’t leave his visitor to hang out there floundering. “How about an interesting fact about you most people don’t know—something not in your bio?”
Originally, I thought about mentioning that for almost twenty-five years I’ve been creating reproduction pre-1900 old-west leather gear (holsters, gun belts, spur straps, etc.) for cowboy action shooters and reenactors. But after some consideration, I figured only a handful of western writers would care and I moved to something more mainstream.
Have any published authors recently not spent a day taking hours out of their lives promoting their books on Facebook, Twitter, or some other electronic media venue? What does a writer lack most? Time? What does a writer need most? Alcoholic beverages? Just kidding. Or am I? No—we need sustenance to carry us to the next day. In the words of one of those cowboy reenactors I deal with, “We need good grub, podna.”
One of the things I liked most working as a cop in New York were organized crime cases. That was back in the 1970s and without casting aspersions on any one ethnic group, these cases often took us to Italian neighborhoods—and to Italian restaurants.
I’ve often said, “If I had to live on only one type of food, it would be Mediterranean.” So, for all those overworked authors, strapped for time and in need of good grub, here’s a Sicilian recipe I got from one of my “clients” mothers. I call it Little Joe’s Momma’s Pasta and Vegetables. It’s quick and easy and if you must, everything can come from a can off the supermarket shelf. Figure twenty minutes preparation plus pasta cooking time. Please excuse the non-traditional way I present recipes.
1 humongous red onion (I’m talkin’ at least softball size) coarsely chopped. ¼” slices are okay. Then chop
1 green pepper, chopped same as the onion.
2 four (4) ounce cans of mushroom stems and pieces. Drain, then use a paper towel to squeeze out the liquid.
Fresh garlic. I use three (3) BIG cloves. You know how much garlic you like. Mince.
½ cup (or more) black olives, sliced.
Fresh basil. At least a dozen large leaves, coarsely chopped. (If you grow your own basil, freeze dry some and save to use in the winter. It’s almost as good as fresh.)
Sauté the onions and peppers in 1 tablespoon of extra virgin olive oil. When they soften a bit, add the mushrooms and olives. Cover the pan because the mushrooms tend to splatter and pop. After five (5) minutes, add the garlic and sauté another 2-3 minutes. When the vegetables look done (but not too soft) add the basil and a jar of your favorite pasta sauce. (Hint: pick one with less sodium and you’ll taste the vegetables more.) Add a little crushed red pepper flakes if you want spice, and salt to your taste, not Francesco Rinaldi’s.
For two people, 3 or 4 ounces of farfalle makes two reasonable portions of pasta. For those not familiar with the I-tralian language, farfalle is also known as bow ties.
Serve the concoction topped with grated Pecorino-Romano cheese and a bottle of Sicilian Nero D’Avola or the easier to find Tuscan Sanvgiovese. Time to mangiamo.