Mistake Pasta

Mistakes are inevitable. Everybody makes them, everybody gets upset about them, (almost) everybody wants to fix them. Most of the time, whatever error one has made can be either fixed or forgiven. And I think one of the wonderful things about food is that it makes up for those mistakes that we can't really fix or forgive ourselves for. How, you ask?
Well, I respond, 1) food is delicious and its deliciousness usually induces temporary amnesia, which is nice when you really don't want to think about how you screwed up that interview; crispy bacon is the perfect food choice for mistake amnesia because the crunch drowns out your thoughts and honestly, how can any self-respecting carnivore be unhappy while munching on bacon? Impossible.
2) when cooking, lots of mistakes can be made, but almost all of those mistakes can be fixed! Which brings me to the inspiration for this post.

Spaghetti squash caught my eye while strolling through Kroger, so I grabbed two, nestled them in my basket next to the salt and vinegar chips, checked out and went on my way. I ended up roasting them with some olive oil, salt, and pepper. Simple, classic, yummy; squash usually tastes best when it isn't too dressed up. But after roasting them, that evil devil, Wanna-Be-Chef-Celina, piped up and persuaded me to saute the strands of squash with basically everything I could find...that ended up including garlic, onions, shallots, LOTS AND LOTS of lemon zest and juice, lime zest and juice, herbs de Provence, parsley, and butter. This might not have been too horrible if I had gone much easier on the citrus, and actually cooked the garlic. But I didn't. This is one of the many reasons I will never be a chef: when I'm in the middle of cooking and a crazy idea crosses my mind, I employ that idea without a second thought.

It was a mistake. I ruined the dignity of that spaghetti squash. I tried to eat it but it was so acidic that it hurt my teeth, and so generally icky that I grimaced while chewing. So I plunked it all into an opaque tupperware container, tossed it in the back of the fridge, and tried to forget about it.
A couple of days later, when my teeth had recovered, I decided to face up to the pungent result of my impulsiveness. Here is a rough breakdown how I fixed it:

Mistake Pasta
Ingredients:
-a bunch of lemony, garlicky, icky spaghetti squash mistake mess
-linguini or spaghetti pasta noodles, 1 box
-1 part butter
-1 part flour
-milk
-salt and pepper to taste
-crushed red pepper flakes to taste
-Onion, sliced

1) With the butter, flour, and milk, make alfredo sauce. I didn't have a block of parmesan to grate into it, but if I did I would have totally gone for it.
2) Caramelize the onion in some butter and then add spaghetti squash to heat through.
3) Meanwhile, cook the pasta (al dente of course). Drain and do not rinse (the starch left on un-rinsed noodles helps sauce to cling to them. Pro tip! Rinse pasta only when you're making something like a cold pasta salad, so the noodles don't get gummy)
4) Add the onion and spaghetti squash mixture to the alfredo, then add the pasta. Stir, stir, stir. Add salt and pepper to taste, and crushed red pepper flakes.

Not too shabby for a terrible spaghetti squash dish gone awry, eh? It doesn't look like much, but alfredo usually never does. It tasted pretty good; creamy and mild, definitely citrus-y but not acidic (the alfredo cut through that). And my brother wanted me to mention that it won his apparently prestigious seal of approval.

So next time you think you've completely messed up any hope of being friends again with somebody, or messed up a supposedly easy broccoli recipe, try to look at the problem from a different, more delicious and definitely more positive perspective.

Cheers (I've always wanted to say cheers to somebody),
Celina.