Mezzemaniche With Shrimp In Tomato Cream Sauce


quarter cup diced onion
four cloves garlic, diced
dried thyme
crushed red pepper flakes
salt and pepper
lemon wedge
one cup dry white wine
one cup clam juice
one pound mezzemaniche (or other pasta)
one small can crushed san marzano tomatoes
one pound shrimp, cut into small pieces
three tablespoons chopped flat parsley
oilve oil
quarter cup heavy cream
parmigiano reggiano for grating

Sautee the shrimp with salt and black pepper until it is just done, and then remove from pan and reserve.

Sautee the onions with black pepper, a pinch of dried thyme, and crushed red pepper until it is getting translucent, and then add the garlic. (The brown shitte is the shrimp protein exudate caramelizing, and is goode!)

Continue to sautee until the garlic is soft.

Deglaze with a small squeeze of lemon and one cup dry white wine. Reduce until all the alcohol is gone.

Add the clam juice, tomatoes, and two tablespoons chopped parsley, stir well, and simmer for about fifteen or twenty minutes, until the tomatoes are starting to decompose. If you bought shrimp still in the shell (or even better, have the heads), you can make your own shrimp broth to use instead of clam juice. Just boil the shells and heads in water with salt and pepper for about fifteen minutes, and then strain the shitte through cheesecloth.

Add the heavy cream, stir well, turn heat down to low, and simmer gently while you boil the pasta in salty water.

When the pasta is very molto al dente, ladle out about three fourths of a cup of the pasta water into the sauce and raise the heat to medium.

Drain the pasta, add to the simmering sauce along with the shrimp, and finish for about two minutes, stirring throughout. Turn off heat, cover, and allow to rest for a few minutes.

Plate, grate, sprinkle, and eat! (Sorry some of these photos are out of fucken focus. We used a different camera than usual, and for some reason it wasn’t auto-focusing correctly.)

9/11/2001 Reminiscence

I think all this “9/11 commemoration Never Forget” glurge shitte indulged mostly by people who didn’t experience any of itte except on teevee is grotesque, and I want nothing to do with itte. However, I agree with Tenured Radical thatte there is a place for reminiscence. Accordingly, I will explain a little about my own experiences on 9/11/2001, and invite all readers to do the same in the comments.

I was working two jobs at the time, one in Greenwich Village and one two blocks east of the WTC. PhysioWife and I watched the planes hit the towers on teevee and then both left for work–she to Midtown and I to Greenwich Vilage–clearly in severe denial about the gravity of the situation. I was on the downtown subway in the thirties, when someone on the train said, “A plane has hit the Pentagon”. My immediate reaction was, “No, way. That can’t be true.” The train stopped at Union Square, and the conductor announced that the train was stopping and everyone should get out.

I exited to the street, and walked down to Greenwich Village to my job there. When I tried to contact PhysioWife by cell phone and by land line, there were only busy signals. Fortunately, we both had Blackberries, and were able to communicate via e-mail. We immediately agreed to walk home and meet there. I was fortunately also able to communicate via e-mail with my friends and colleagues working two blocks east of the WTC and ascertain that they were ok, and most of them were staying put, on very high floors of a nearby office building.

On my way walking back home, I passed a van parked on the side of the road that had a generator and a teevee playing (why, I have no idea). As I walked by, I heard people gasping that the first tower had fell. I quickened my pace and wanted nothing more than to get home to PhysioWife. We finally arrived home and fell into each other’s arms.

That afternoon, we decided to walk around our neighborhood, as apparently did many other people. Everyone looked pretty dazed, but you could tell people were thirsting for human contact. That evening, we felt like we couldn’t stay inside our apartment, and so we went to a local Italian restaurant that we were very frequent patrons at. The place was fucken *packed* with people, and everyone was drinking more than usual and sort of frantically socializing.

We Are So Fucked

Only *one* out of these fifty young women–Miss Vermont–actually seems to understand that the truth or falsity of biological evolution is a matter of fact–a question about the nature of objective reality that is wholly independent of any human needs, wants, or desires–and not “opinion” or “belief” or “perspective”. The other thing that is truly disturbing is that most of these women seem not to have been taught anything about biological evolution in school, and clearly view the question from the perspective of “should we impose this new thing on kids in school?”

(h/t River of Mnemosyne.)

AJ Burnett

The fact that he pitched decently again today is completely fucken meaningless. The Yanks are keeping with the six-man rotation right now to rest their starters, have called up a ton of players from the minors for a “cup of coffee”, and are also resting their position players. Why? Because they are *not* battling to win the AL East; they are preparing for the post-season, and have made the decision that it is not worth going flat-out to win the AL East and avoid the wild-card (which is pretty much locked up).

AJ Burnett is not capable of pitching effectively in high-stakes meaningful situations. He did decently today because he *knew* that it was an essentially meaningless game that the Yankees could take or leave.

Oh, and this also explains why after the game Girardi didn’t say a word about pitching or batting, and only complained about poor fielding: because the fielding mistakes made today were purely mental and had nothing to do with physical effort.