Or rather, next, next year.

Or never!

Many nights ago, I had a dish at Po on Cornelia Street that had bacon, dark olives, and a tomato-based sauce, which altogether tasted like a combination of arrabiata and puttanesca, and reminded me, vaguely, of that song by Das Racist. Tonight, Fred and I tried to recreate it, and the result was pretty darn close.

I took a small yellow union, thinly sliced, with two gloves of garlic, and simmered them both in olive oil. Then I added some chopped bacon. Then a can of crushed San Marzano tomatoes, with a dash of red pepper flakes. Reduce, reduce, reduce, and then another dash of oregano and some chopped Kalamata olives. Garnish with some basil and cheese. It was delicious.

We also made a quick David Chang-inspired salad with mezuma leaves and half of a Fuji Apple. We used our friend George’s secret dressing which, if you must know, is equal parts lemon and olive oil, mixed with raw, crushed garlic. I could eat salad morning, afternoon, and night with that dressing. Behold, the final product*:

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*I sort of hate food bloggers who take pictures of their food, but like a lot of things I knock before I try, it’s kinda fun. It reminds me of when my sister and I would assemble our Thanksgiving dinners to look–probably to our mother’s horror–like “Boston Market dinners.” Now, living in California, we had never been to a Boston Market, but they advertised on our television, and so we had been bombarded with image after image of steaming, perfect plates of chicken, mashed potatoes, and well…I can’t remember what else.

My friend Eremi and her boyfriend Jan came over to cook yesterday. They made a tart tatin, which is awesome, because at one point, she (and Fred) set it on fire with a match and half a bottle of rum. According to cooking lore, the tart was invented by accident at the Hotel Tatin.

Tart Tartine by Eremi from Thessaly La Force on Vimeo.

(Video by Fred.)