A recipe
I wrote this 2-3 yrs ago and had posted it here at some point, but reposted someplace recently where all these people saw it that had never seen it before and I thought
Pasta Dommanesca a la Mistress Saskia
Pour 2/3 gallon or so of water in a pot that's big enough to hold it and then some. Turn the flame on the stove on high, and then tell the pot and the water that you've seen them together and slutty elements must be punished. Show them the flames and then slowly set them on it. Put a lid on the pot to enhance the agony.
With a sharp knife, slice, dice, mince and otherwise torment two cups of as many types of olives as you can find. Smile lovingly at the olives, just to confuse them. Set aside like a boring lover or a scuffed pair of shoes.
With a blunt object, bash the hell out of 2-3 largish cloves of garlic. Inhale the aroma of garlicky fear. Set aside, knowing that it'll keep exuding that fear and that the other ingredients will become increasingly anxious as a result.
With a biggish soup spoon, scoop a big spoonful of previously innocent capers away from the rest of their caper community, which will scream in agony in their absence, then quake in fear wondering when the scoop will come for them. Set aside. Come back 15 minutes later, dip the spoon in a couple of times, and dip out another spoonful of them and put with the others. Laugh as they reunite with their loved ones, knowing (as they do not) what will soon be happening to them all.
Find a bottle of olive oil and set it on a table or counter. Tell it that you know for a fact it hasn't been a virgin for years, let alone extra-virgin and besides, nobody likes a braggart. Then let it sit there and wait quietly for you to use it. Make sure it knows that a good olive oil is never demanding and it's time your bottle learned that.
Open a can of anchovies. Tell them you're not sure they're worthy, but you'll think about it. Leave them to wonder if they've been opened for no reason and if their lives have been taken, beheaded and packed in oil as a cruel joke. If you get tired of their moaning, come back, drain them a bit, and smash them up with a fork. That'll teach the whiny little shits.
Open a smallish (not biggish) can of chopped tomatoes. Tell them they're entirely inadequate as they are and that they're insulting you with their excessive liquidity. Dump them into a sieve and let them drain, slowly and painfully.
Whisper to your jar of crushed red pepper flakes. Tell them you'll let about 1/2 a teaspoon of them out soon, to join in some fun. Let the other ingredients overhear a few words, but not everything.
Check on the water. It's probably terrified now, desperately trying to get out of the pot. This is a good time to carefully drop in a handful or two of pasta. My favorite for this dish is angel hair or spinach fettucini. Regardless, tell the pasta as you drop it in that it's spineless and tasteless on its own and in about 12 minutes, the world will know its shame. Drizzle a little olive oil into the water, just to add insult to injury and remind the water who's boss. Tell the olive oil it's good and you expected nothing less of it all along.
Get out a skillet. Get it hot enough to really scare the hell out of a drizzle of olive oil. Laugh when it runs around the pan. Add another 2/3 cup and let that heat. Then start collecting the other ingredients. Ignore the screaming and cries for mercy as you toss them in, little by little, to become saturated with the olive oil. Make sure everything is well-coated and heated through.
Go check on the pasta. Give it a stir. Take out a strand and tell it you've chosen it because you think it might be special. Then bite it. If there's a tiny bit of resistance, it's probably a cell leader and you know it's time to take them all out of the water. Dump the water. You don't need to tell it anything more: it knows.
Toss the drained pasta in with the other ingredients in the skillet. Coat thoroughly. Go sit down and wait for someone to bring you a plate of it. Tap your foot a bit and send them back if they serve it to you without a napkin and a glass of Chablis. .