is the title of a recipe by Ali Slagle at NYT Cooking. I had fresh gnocchi di patate in the fridge—one of my favorite foods when my level of hunger and the time available are at odds with each other in parallel universes. I buy fresh pasta at the fresh food counter in the Italian supermarket, or – a tip for the people of Mainz – check in in Mainz-Weisenau. The company runs its own pasta factory and everything I’ve bought there so far has been of excellent quality. Of course, gnocchi aren’t pasta because they’re made from potatoes; I nevertheless subsume them there for myself. Fresh pasta products from the refrigerated section are among the foods that really make my culinary life easier. They almost always taste better than the best dry goods and make it possible to prepare meals that are quick to prepare and yet delicious(!) after a long and tiring day.
The word “satisfactory” appears very often in American recipes. And while I simply ignore words like “comfort food”, I get stuck on “satisfactory” for a moment. It’s a tiny second delay before my brain throws the German translation “satisfactory” at me. And every time I think, would that be how it would be written in a German recipe? That the food is “satisfying” or “satisfactory”? Just “satisfactory” is so to speak only mediocrity. Satisfactory. Three. Put. On the other hand, there is little better than being satisfied. Maybe that’s where the assumption comes from that eating is the sex of old age. Others play golf. …
Allow the cheese to melt while the sauce simmers. I didn’t add mozzarella to the tomato sauce, but Gorgonzola picante. Now just season with salt and pepper, put the gnocchi in tomato sauce with gorgonzola in deep plates, grind more pepper from the mill on top and plunder the last basil leaves from the raised bed.
Make lecker great again!
