Wrangler Dani

I love a lot of recipes. I love food and I love to cook. But one that I can always serve to anyone, that nearly always sounds good no matter the season, that always makes my hungry husband smile, is pasta and sausage.

It’s hearty and simple and made with only a pot or two, no fussy things here. First, I boil and brown some good quality sausage. This is not the time for frozen Kielbasa or cheap “Italian-flavored” bits and ends in a stuff-sack – this calls for artisan sausage, made with love and bought across a wide countertop from a smiling butcher.

Then I mix in veggies and a little seasoning. Depending on the season and sausage flavor I mix it up, but you’ll always find garlic and onion, maybe some carrots, okra, green beans or swiss chard laying gently beside large, fragrant sausages, cooked to bursting. I add a little olive oil and some butter if I’m feeling skinny, plus a shake of salt, pepper, a little oregano or basil.

Next I boil pasta – al dente, like in a good restaurant, not limp like boxed mac and cheese. I use good pasta too, whole wheat if I can find it, usually bowties or penne, because who wants to waste time twirling spaghetti on their fork?

I mix my cooked pasta, veggies and sausage all together, watch as green tendrils wrap around the pasta edges and it soaks up the flavor of the sausage. I pour a bit more olive oil on top and a few extra herbs – whatever it asks for, whatever smells haven’t erupted yet. I pull garlic bread from the oven – I forgot to tell you – this is freshly buttered sourdough slices, topped with newly-grated parmesan cheese and garlic, broiled and sizzling.

I scoop our dinner onto plates, a celebration of the very idea of shared food, as it jumbles joyfully onto the plate: red, green, brown, tan, orange, seasoned and speckled with herbs and sauce of it’s own making. A slice of garlic bread slides alongside and a generous scoop of that fresh parmesan lands on top: dinner is served – to a bunch of friends on game night, a family and their newborn baby hoping for a covered dish, to anyone who stops by at dinnertime, to my love and myself after a long day. There’s always some leftover, and it usually tastes even better the next day – proof that a dinner as good as this one is meant to be shared.