I pulled the beast from the shelf. Heavy. This thing is so heavy. My wrists buckled.
I placed a folded towel on the counter. I picked up the beast once again and placed it on the towel. It didn't move. It wouldn't move.
I fed the beast pine nuts. More than a heaping spoon. With pestle I rolled and mashed the pine nuts around in its belly.
Summer lay suspended in the aluminum pot. Three cubes of pesto (a base for pesto,anyway). Extra virgin olive oil, salt, garlic, basil. In time, July 20, 2009 would melt, but not without a little coaxing.
I placed the aluminum pot on the burner. The flame kicked low.
Once again I lifted the beast and carried it to the sink. There I would bath it in warm soapy water.
Washed and dried, it sat on another towel. I wondered how much it weighed. I pulled the scale from the bathroom and lifted the beast once again. 15 1/2 lbs. It certainly feels heavier than that.
I carried the beast back to the shelf and slid it back into place.
2009 had melted. July 20 was all that remained. I stirred in a bit more oil.
Moments passed. July 20 had melted. I stirred in the mashed pine nuts. Cracked in some black pepper and a dash of salt. I stirred once again. This is ready.
The water was set to boil. The pasta was measured out. Yesterdays Parmesan was cycled out of its receptacle and placed into a separate bowl. New Parmesan was pulled over the grate to refill. We don't mix today's with yesterdays. It's just not done.
"Can I drop the pasta?" I yelled up the stairs.
"Yeah!" He yelled down the stairs.
The water was salted. I dropped the linguine. Nine minutes later I pulled a cup of the pasta water and drained the pasta. Placed back into the pot, I dropped in the pesto, a good bit of water and stirred. More cracked pepper and another stir.
Pasta nests in bowls. More cracked pepper at the table and heaps and heaps of Parmesan. A poke, twirl, stir and everything is just so.
A few bites down, a drink of water, a drink of wine, a few more sprinkles of Parmesan.
"How was your day?" He asked.