Wednesday, December 7, 2011

There's No Sauce in My Sauce

When I think of a sauce, I think of something that has a little body. Something in which the liquid, itself, has flavor. I do not think of some chopped up stuff mixed with oil and pasta water, which is exactly what Fusilli (penne, for me) with Roasted Red and Yellow Pepper Sauce (pg 188) turned out to be.

Perfect Vegetables' recipe for roasting peppers was more work than is necessary. Why core the pepper and slice it into flat pieces before placing under the broiler, when it works perfectly well to shove the whole pepper under the broiler and flip it a few times? I did it my way.

The one thing going for this recipe is how easy it is to prepare. Mix oil, chopped roasted red and yellow pepper, garlic, mint, capers (mine looked funky and had turned pink, so I used olives), and lemon juice in a bowl and let it sit for a half hour. Then stir it into the drained pasta, adding pasta water as necessary.

I stirred a mountain of parmesan cheese into this, just to make it taste like something, and it still wasn't enough. Matt added an additional mountain of cheese to his, beyond what was already in there.
Charlie, however, ate a plate of the pasta, carefully picking off each and every bit of non-pasta matter. I'm hoping some pepper juices hitched a ride on the penne, into his system.

Conclusion: Just okay. If not for the fact that Charlie ate it, I'd never make it again.


  1. "pepper juices hitched a ride on the penne" - great line & such an apt description. I constantly hope that the "good stuff" finds its way in to my fussy eater by proximity.

  2. Yeah, I never got the whole "no sauce" sauce of the Italians especially since they love a good Alfredo or tomato sauce. Oh, well. Good try!