Mid-July and summer was doing what summer does regardless of what else is happening — hot, long-daylight, the neighbor's garden overflowing with okra and tomatoes and peppers, the air smelling of cut grass and heat. The world kept being the world. I kept being in it. That is the other side of grief: you survive it by continuing, and continuing means ordinary things happening in the same days as the hard things.
I had been writing more than usual — not just the journal but something longer, a project I had been thinking about for months and was now actually starting. An essay collection, very early stage, about food and family and the particular place we came from. Not a cookbook. Not a memoir exactly. Something in between. Stories with recipes embedded in them, or recipes with stories embedded in them, I wasn't sure which way around it was. I knew it was the right project because I kept sitting down to write it even when I wasn't sure what I was doing.
Tanya's protest poems were accepted by the adult literary journal she had submitted to. She called me from her porch and I could hear that she was crying. I said, "Told you." She said, "Stop." I said, "Never." She laughed through her crying, which is the best sound. Her poems were going to be in the world. That was a good thing in a summer with very few of them. I held it carefully.
I made a tomato and basil galette on Saturday — a free-form pastry filled with summer tomatoes and fresh basil from my herb garden, the crust buttery and rough-edged, the tomatoes jammy and sweet from the heat. I ate it for lunch and dinner and considered it one of the best things I had made all summer. A galette is a humble, forgiving thing. It does not require precision or perfection. It requires good ingredients and attention and the willingness to accept that it looks how it looks, which is beautiful in a different way than planned beauty. I needed that this week. The galette and what it stood for.
That galette taught me something I already knew but needed relearning: the simplest things, made with care and whatever is growing outside your door, are often the most sustaining. These basil noodles came out of the same impulse — the herb garden had more basil than I could use, Tanya’s good news was still sitting warm in my chest, and I wanted something easy and fragrant that felt like a small celebration without requiring me to be more than I was. Fresh basil, good pasta, honest flavors. That’s all this is, and it’s enough.
Basil Noodles
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 12 oz linguine or thin spaghetti
- 2 cups fresh basil leaves, packed
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for finishing
- 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for serving
- 2 tablespoons toasted pine nuts
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for pasta water
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)
- 1/2 cup reserved pasta cooking water
Instructions
- Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of generously salted water to a boil. Add the linguine and cook according to package directions until al dente. Before draining, scoop out 1/2 cup of pasta cooking water and set aside. Drain the pasta.
- Make the basil oil. While the pasta cooks, combine the fresh basil leaves, garlic, olive oil, pine nuts, salt, and pepper in a food processor or blender. Pulse until the basil is finely chopped and the mixture is fragrant but still has some texture — you are not making a smooth pesto.
- Toss together. Return the drained pasta to the warm pot over low heat. Pour the basil mixture over the noodles and toss to coat, adding reserved pasta water a few tablespoons at a time until the sauce loosens and clings to the noodles.
- Finish and serve. Stir in the Parmesan and a drizzle of olive oil. Taste and adjust salt. Add red pepper flakes if using. Divide into bowls and top with additional Parmesan and a few whole basil leaves.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 480 | Protein: 13g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 58g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 340mg