It’s dark. The road reaches up the hill, the incline that never ends. I’m so hungry all my movements feel floppy. Step. Step. One after the other, each one closer to dinner but still so far away…
At last, into the house. Getting changed. The screech of our car’s brakes outside. The Husband! He will feed me!
Hugs and welcomes, then beseeching looks.
“Can you cook the tortellini? You’re so much better at it than I am. Remember last time I cooked ravioli, and all the filling ended up in the water?”
He kisses me. “Sure.” Yay!
While he fills the kettle and gets the saucepan of water boiling I eagerly peruse the six jars of pasta sauce I got in the mail. Which one to put with tortellini? Well, the tortellini are supposed to be spinach and cheese (ha, as if, all supermarket tortellini taste like they’re stuffed with breadcrumbs) so perhaps something other than cheese. Hmm, there’s one that’s supposed to have red peppers and chilli. That might perk up the pasta!
I’d better stop watching the water boil if I ever want to eat.
And at last the tortellini is cooked! The Husband drains it and tips it back into the saucepan before unscrewing the jar of sauce and pouring it in. No extra cooking, the heat of the pasta will warm it up! Stir and serve.
The tortillini is its usual pasta lumps. The sauce is chunkier than most other kinds I’ve used. Instead of a puree it’s more approaching diced tomatoes. There’s the occasional square of red capsicum, and a sheen of brightly crimson-orange oil. Dark flecks of parsley right through.
It tastes sweetly of tomato when I first put it in my mouth but the chilli is quite warm; it’s what lingers in my throat and on my tongue. The Husband comments on it. I like it with the tortellini, it lifts it compared to the stodgy innards, but I would never use this sauce in a lasagna or something. It would work well with penne though… perhaps with some olives added.
Not bad, I like that it’s not runny. In fact it really is more of a relish consistancy than a liquid. If I take a scoop with my fork it’s thick enough to sit with no drips as if snug in a spoon.
Better than the average supermarket sauce for a quick feed. I can feel the energy returning to my bones… just in time to deal with the cleaning up.
Rating:
Specifics: Bertolli Arrabbiata Pasta Sauce
Disclaimer: I was sent this sauce as a free sample.
Bertolli Arrabbiata Pasta Sauce
It’s dark. The road reaches up the hill, the incline that never ends. I’m so hungry all my movements feel floppy. Step. Step. One after the other, each one closer to dinner but still so far away…
At last, into the house. Getting changed. The screech of our car’s brakes outside. The Husband! He will feed me!
Hugs and welcomes, then beseeching looks.
“Can you cook the tortellini? You’re so much better at it than I am. Remember last time I cooked ravioli, and all the filling ended up in the water?”
He kisses me. “Sure.” Yay!
While he fills the kettle and gets the saucepan of water boiling I eagerly peruse the six jars of pasta sauce I got in the mail. Which one to put with tortellini? Well, the tortellini are supposed to be spinach and cheese (ha, as if, all supermarket tortellini taste like they’re stuffed with breadcrumbs) so perhaps something other than cheese. Hmm, there’s one that’s supposed to have red peppers and chilli. That might perk up the pasta!
I’d better stop watching the water boil if I ever want to eat.
And at last the tortellini is cooked! The Husband drains it and tips it back into the saucepan before unscrewing the jar of sauce and pouring it in. No extra cooking, the heat of the pasta will warm it up! Stir and serve.
The tortillini is its usual pasta lumps. The sauce is chunkier than most other kinds I’ve used. Instead of a puree it’s more approaching diced tomatoes. There’s the occasional square of red capsicum, and a sheen of brightly crimson-orange oil. Dark flecks of parsley right through.
It tastes sweetly of tomato when I first put it in my mouth but the chilli is quite warm; it’s what lingers in my throat and on my tongue. The Husband comments on it. I like it with the tortellini, it lifts it compared to the stodgy innards, but I would never use this sauce in a lasagna or something. It would work well with penne though… perhaps with some olives added.
Not bad, I like that it’s not runny. In fact it really is more of a relish consistancy than a liquid. If I take a scoop with my fork it’s thick enough to sit with no drips as if snug in a spoon.
Better than the average supermarket sauce for a quick feed. I can feel the energy returning to my bones… just in time to deal with the cleaning up.
Rating:
Specifics: Bertolli Arrabbiata Pasta Sauce
Disclaimer: I was sent this sauce as a free sample.