No, this has nothing to do with the latest Star Trek movie, although I regret it already. There might be a slight danger, that you don't like me anymore after this post. That is, of course, only if you liked me before this post.
Besides a simple pasta dish, this post is about the darkness of the human mind.
Do the names Rezső Seress and László Jávor ring a bell for you? Maybe I'm putting this wrong. It doesn't have to do with bells necessarily, but rather with music. Rezső was a Hungarian composer, who ... obviously ... composed a song, which was published in 1933.
László wrote the lyrics for that song. It was called "Vége a világnak" ("End of the world"). Nowadays it is rather known by the name "Gloomy Sunday".
According to Wikipedia a potential publisher stated: "It is not that the song is sad, there is a sort of terrible compelling
despair about it. I don't think it would do anyone any good to hear a
song like that."
There are some urban legends regarding this song that connects it with various numbers of suicide. Well, right now the CD, which has a version by Heather Nova is in my CD player and I listen to it nearly every day. So far ... no effect. Still, I couldn't really throw away the gift of life just like that. Above that I would be too scared to do certain things.
I tried something else last weekend. I wanted to stay in bed a whole day ... 24 hours that is. That didn't work out either. Already after 12 hours I couldn't stay in bed anymore and had to get up. In fact right now I can be quite sensitive. I even had to cry at some scenes of Alfred Hitchcock (although just slightly). Maybe I need some good suggestions for funny movies.
Yet, there is a certain closeness to death in this household, but that rather has to do with plants. I might claim to have a garden and that I am growing certain ... eh ... plants on my windowsill, but not everything is working out so fine.
For instance, I had ... no I have ... a basil ... let's call it plant. Most of the bush - as it has been before - withered and died of. Only one stem remained.
Here on this picture you see it just after I harvested some leaves today. Have a guess as to the height of this basil stem! What do you think?
Fine, I tell you. It's about 50 cm high and it still refuses to die. I think that is a good quality, which I better imitate.
Maybe I spent to much time alone with my thoughts. I better dispel any dark thoughts lurking in my mind. How else would I do it than by cooking something lovely? Better said then done. After coming home from work I was rather in this not-doing-anything-at-all-right-away-go-to-bed kind of mood. Gladly I turned on my computer before that and read a tweet from Jack on Twitter. The word "Gorgonzola" was mentioned. So, after tweeting a bit back and forth, I resolved to have pasta with the Gorgonzola resting in peace (sorry) in the fridge.
Before that, though, I wanted to check the garden for some rocket. On the way to the spot of growing I met the neighbours offering me some garden tools to work in my garden. Was it a hint, I'm not treating my garden well?
I thanked them for the offer - now I know where to find the tools - and got some rocket.
It's about time, we have some pasta: Basil Gorgonzola Carbonara. We still need a few more things ...
2 cloves of garlic
A hand full of rocket and basil leaves (altogether)
4 tbs olive oil
A few drops of lemon juice
Salt and pepper
500 g of your favourite pasta (depending on availability)
200 g Gorgonzola (I hardly ever choose the mild one)
Get your kettle full of water on heat, while you already have a large pot with a bit of water and lots of salt ready for the pasta.
Then start by peeling and roughly chopping up the garlic. Toss it in a mortar and go for it. Crush it! Tear apart the leaves of rocket and basil and add to the mortar. And while you are at it, pour in the oil, add a few drops of lemon juice and season with salt and pepper. Work on the ingredients to create a paste similar to - but not being it - pesto.
Time to heat up a large pan on low heat. Transfer the content of the mortar to the pan. If you deem it necessary, thinking it looks to dry, add some more olive oil to the pan. That is the base.
Slowly but surely you get a faint garlic and basil smell in your kitchen and hopefully the pasta is already in the process of being boiled.
Meanwhile, as all these different processes are going on in your kitchen, you still have to do another task. By the way, that is not really multitasking. For that isn't really something good. After all the pan and pot are doing there job quite good without you. Ah ... eh ... no ... also not really. Make sure to acquaint the pasta with a spoon from time to time.
Oh, getting side-tracked. The other task is still upon us. Mix the eggs (without shells) with the Gorgonzola. Do it properly, do it thoroughly.
When it's time to drain the pasta, make sure you catch at least 200 ml of the cooking water. That water you mix with the Gorgonzola and eggs. The drained pasta changes location and ends up in your large pan.
Right after that the egg and Gorgonzola mix follows. Using a wooden spoon quickly unite the ingredients in the pan, turn off the heat and ... plate up.
Enjoy your meal! That was quite a deal. From the thought of not having dinner to having a lovely Basil Gorgonzola Carbonara dish. I'm really happy with it. I'm enjoying it again to putting things together in the kitchen. That is good. It would be really bad if you don't read anything from me here on this blog for two or more weeks. We don't allow that to happen.
That Basil Gorgonzola Carbonara was really creamy and delicious.
Let me just mention something briefly regarding my garden again. There is just one rocket plant and I haven't even planted or sown it this year. Yet ... why not!
I dare say now, I have come to the end ... of this post. Thinking a bit about all the things said and done, the post should have rather been called Out of Darkness Basil Gorgonzola Carbonara.