It was all in an effort to fortify ourselves. Mezzi rigatoni with garden tomato and tuna.
So often, we fortify ourselves with pasta.
We sat down to the table. Our usual spots. Clinking forks. Ice water. Lots of ice water.
"I started the Grana." I said.
I didn't have to tell him. He knew without me even saying a word.
"Do we have to water tonight?" I asked.
"Yes." He said.
A feeling of dread. I knew we had to water. I guess I was hoping he'd say otherwise.
...
Even the sun struggled to set. It seemed to be pressing down with all its might. Dispersing a heavy, muggy, sticky, mass of heat. Inside the house, with a fan circulating the air being pushed out by the cooling box, my lungs felt heavy. Filled with cotton. Anxiety over the weather. When would it break? This is not good.
...
When the last of the dishes were rinsed and set to dry, we closed the fan, and headed out to our stations. Roberto took to watering the garden. I took to watering the flowers.
The sweat was immediate, but it was a sign of proper hydration in which I took comfort.
When finished, we headed back inside to replenish ourselves with water. Lots of ice water.
I can tell from the photos, that pasta is perfectly al dente.
ReplyDeleteNicole - :) It does look perfectly al dente. We ate it so quickly, I hardly noticed.
ReplyDeleteI love this kind of pasta.
ReplyDeleteWere the tomatoes from your garden??
Magda - The tomatoes are from our garden and Roberto's parents garden. I'm glad their garden is doing well—ours, not so much.
ReplyDeleteOh, Tracy, the heat just won't break here either. and no rain for days and days. it's so hard on the garden--water from the hose-pipe just isn't the same as water from the sky. hang in there--stay cool.
ReplyDeletenancy - You're right. It's not the same. This summer is a real doozy.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure this will seem funny, but I miss that dread feeling, knowing we had to water.
ReplyDeleteDenise - I can see how one would miss it.
ReplyDelete