Pasta Noir: Ernest Hemingway's Surf and Turf Orecchiette

“Yes, they have more money.” In Esquire, August 1936, replying to Fitzgerald’s ‘Let me tell you about the very rich. They are different from you and me.’

Ingredients:
Paris*

3 bottles of 8 year-old bourbon*, just in case you run out of…

5 bottles of anise*

1 high-precision Smith&Wesson rifle*, (preferably used during the Spanish civil war.)

A bull fight*

One cow. Or at least 500 grams of cubed veal.

500 grams of freshly caught Marlin or swordfish in bite-sized cubes

800 grams of orecchiette

A little rosemary

A little chopped parsley

A dash of honey

A small teaspoon of beef extract

20 pealed, seeded and diced tomatoes. (Cuban, if possible.)

4 cloves of garlic

2 onions

Salt and pepper to taste

*ingredients 1-5 are optional

Serves 10

The pasture is green. You take the gun and look at the cow. It is brown. The brown cow sees the rifle. It doesn’t know. Shoot the cow.

Go home and pour yourself some anise. Life is hard, you think, but real, like the feeling of a hot Spanish sun at midday. The memory. The summer trip to Europe 2 years ago. At least you have that, the memory. A package deal, 8 countries in 6 days, $599.99. At the airport in Madrid the girl had told you they’d mishandled your luggage. She had short hair. You never did get the suitcase back. So have another drink. Life is really hard. Go into the kitchen.

Fill a pot with water. Put it on a back burner to boil. Open the package of cubed beef the local butcher prepared for you (from the dead cow.) In a pan, brown the meat and then add garlic, onion and a hint of rosemary. Sauté them together. It smells good. You taste it. It isn’t salty enough. Look to the right. The salt will be there, as always, in the terracotta jar. Add some, and pepper, then the diced tomatoes, beef extract and a dash of honey.

Sit down. Have some more anise. Life is really, really hard. You look in your driveway. A white Chrysler S.U.V. You remember the dealership, the salesman, Bob, a round man in cheap clothes who couldn’t help repeating zero down, zero percent financing. 4 trips to the mechanic already. He suckered you. You’d like to find him crossing the road so you could ram the accelerator of that goddam elephant of a car to the floor and watch Bob flip off the hood and over the top, across the river and into the woods. You think to yourself, “Ernest, you nitwit!” But it’s too late now, so please, please, please, please, please can you just not think about it, the water is almost boiling. Open another bottle of anise instead. Pour yourself some. Life is really, really, really hard.

Open the package of cubed marlin. Look at it. The flesh is tender but firm and odorless. A good fish. Add the pieces to the sauce. It gives you an idea for a story, maybe a novel. When the water in the back begins to boil, salt it, then stir in the pasta. Once it has cooked awhile test it with your teeth. It should be firm but not chewy. If it’s done, first strain and then mix it into the sauce, along with the chopped parsley. Plate in individual terracotta bowls.

Go out to the trunk of the Chrysler and haul the dead cow carcass inside. Put it in the middle of the table as a decorative centerpiece. Family begins arriving. They look at you with wide eyes. You’re papa. You understand, and tell them you think it’s time you took a long vacation. Paris, maybe. They silently nod in agreement. After dinner call Scott, see what that yuppie wannabe is up to.

The recipe: Finely chop the onions and garlic and sauté them in a large saucepan with 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil. After a minute or so add the meat, then the finely chopped rosemary. Once browned add the tomatoes, then the beef extract and finally a dash of honey, season with salt and pepper and mix. Meanwhile boil the pasta in salted water. When the pasta is 4-5 minutes from being cooked, add the cubes of fish to the sauce and reduce the heat. After draining the pasta add to the saucepan along with the parsley and some fresh olive oil. Serve warm. Accompany with a Cerasuolo.

 

link-Hemingway on food: https://www.finedininglovers.com/stories/ernest-hemingway-food-wine-words/

link - The Influence of Hemingway's damaged brain in his later works: http://www.psychiatrictimes.com/neuropsychiatry/hemingways-chronic-traumatic-encephalopathy