The Trick With The GarlicOn the way back from last evening's entertainments, we stopped at the local incarnation of The Donut Place (The Yeasted Ones) for a dozen. It was a bit of a drive, so we treated ourselves. This morning, after having eaten between us the better part of the box, our ever aging selves told us in no gentle terms that we really ought not do that. I will note that I have no complaint with the donuts themselves, just my inability to eat them. Or stop eating them, as the case may have been. In any event, we were feeling a little below decks for lunch, and dinner has become something of a scavenger hunt.
We have remnants of the spinach pasta and we need to use the summer squash, and whenever I am feeling poorly I make something with garlic. It works, most times. I've learned a trick for garlic: start by pulling down as many papered cloves of garlic as you think you'll need, then add another one. Cut the stem end off each clove, then slip the remainder of the peel away. Discard the stem ends and paper. Smash each clove flat the on cutting board with the flat of the knife and the keel of your hand (carefully, please!). Pile the smashed cloves in a heap, and liberally drizzle olive oil over the pile. Start chopping. I find chopping goes much easier this way, and in moments I can get the garlic to a fine mince. With a little more patience, I can reduce the stuff to a respectable paste. I have either forgotten where I picked this up, or I am embarrassed to say where from; I cannot recall.
So, then, into a hot skillet went the garlic and the oil I chopped it in (scrape the board with the back of the knife) and a little more oil. Into that went the sunny yellow disks of young summer squash, and the finely chopped leaves of two stripped stems of rosemary. The garlic started to stick a little, so I dolloped in a little bit of the good chicken stock from last week's roast when the pan needed more liquid. Serve over pasta with a bit of cheese (at the moment, Bra Duro) and a slice of bread to mop up the garlic when the pasta's gone.
All content under copyright by the author. Dancing is permitted. The strange deltic glyphs in the sand under tidal flow are a pleasure to watch in their deepening. Offer not valid in Kansas. We put it down and then we lost it. It all happens in the corner of the eye. Commentary accepted at comment@goob.com, although the traps are agressive and the pointy bits simply drip with dark liquour. We have a dog, but we do not own it. Thank you.