Published: November 23, 2005
In the last installment of Lily, we examined the world of PIRATES (do you think they are great yet?).
Today, we will talk about whatever crap falls out of my head and call it a column! On my mind AT THIS VERY MOMENT is the delicate matter of cooking. I was seventeen when I met my husband and so, if I wanted to live with him and not pay rent, all I had to do was throw some junk on a plate and microwave it! If you know men, you know that men love to eat, and they do not have sensitive palates like women! Burnt food is fine, watery food is fine, any kind of food will do. They do not care, as long as it is hot and does not have any cigarette butts in it (even then they do not care so much).
Like I was saying, I had barely used a stove in my life. I was proficient at cooking ramen, but then he began to demand things like STEAK or CHICKEN and other protein-filled hogwash! I solved this dilemma by making hot dogs and cutting them up into little pieces, and making fake shishkabobs out of them.
HERE, I said. HERE IS YOUR DELICIOUS MEAL! SEE, IT IS HOT DOGS, AND THEY HAVE PORK AAAAAND CHICKEN IN THEM! He totally bought it, absolving me from cooking for another week! Still, I was not clever enough to keep dodging left and right, so I went to the one person that can cook and is the best at it: MOM! She gave me little recipe cards and secrets and even some fancy pots and pans. Mom even piled my arms full of cookbooks and told me where all the best recipes where and what the hell OMEGA-3 fatty acids were.
THANK YOU, MOM! I said. I HAVE FORGOTTEN EVERYTHING YOU JUST TOLD ME, SO CAN YOU COOK FOR ME?
She did not! Mom started yelling about me being responsible and if I wanted to live by myself I should cook for myself, or something, but I quickly thanked her for the cookbooks and left. My mother is the best at cooking, how will I ever be as good! I thought. I was just going to have to try.
So here is the thing: we are Italian. If I bought pre-made food or even drove to Subway for a snack, I would be out of the family. They would kick me right out. Oh, heaven forbid they came to my door, because the first thing they would do is go through my fridge and check for tasty, homemade leftovers! (I made sure they never came to my door because I smoked menthol cigarettes inside, never cleaned, and owned cats.) You see my dilemma! After frantic searching through complicated recipes, I decided to make spaghetti. The recipe suggested that you make your own noodles, but I had no noodle-making machine, so I just went out and bought all the ingredients.
Here is where I am supposed to write IT WAS A DISASTER! I AM A FAILED ITALIAN! No, no it was not! I made the best spaghetti ever and he still eats it to this day! Amazing!
Would you like this delicious recipe for yourself? No? Here it is anyway!
LILY’S AWESOME SPAGHETTI!
You will need:
(depending on your taste) 1 very large bag of either angel hair or vermicelli pasta
Newman’s Own spaghetti sauce
Okay! Just toss most of the noodles into a big pot full of water and let them cook for eight minutes. When they are done, drain them and maybe add a couple of drops of olive oil so they won’t stick together. Using the same pot you put the spaghetti in, crack open the sauce jar, dump it in, and wait 2 minutes, stirring constantly. Sprinkle the garlic salt all over the sauce, and then dump everything in a huge bowl and eat it with sprinkle cheese. YOUR FAMILY WILL LOVE IT!