Pasta with Sundried Tomato and Artichoke Hearts, twenty minutes from boxes and jars to table.
There's nothing like pasta for a meal on the fly. Only sometimes it tastes like that too. A box of pasta and a jar of spaghetti sauce are hardly a gourmet meal.
Not that all our meals must be gourmet, mind you. There's a time and place for tacos. But since that time was night before last, and I still hadn't been to a grocer and time was short, to the cupboards I went.
Artichokes? Check. Sundried tomatoes? Check. Olives? Check. Boxes of dried pasta and tins of tomatoes are givens in my stockpile-for-any-disaster mindset. (I estimate I can survive six months of nuclear winter just on assorted pulses.)
Really, with properly filled cupboards, there's no reason to go hungry, or to—gasp—resort to Ragu and angel hair.
Pasta with Sundried Tomatoes and Artichoke Hearts
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 red onion, cut in half and sliced in half-rings
2 cloves garlic, chopped
8 sundried tomatoes, cut in strips
1 15 oz. can chopped tomatoes
1 8 oz. jar artichoke hearts
1/2 cup sliced black Greek olives
salt and pepper to taste
red wine, optional (oh, why not add a splash?)
fresh basil, cut in strips
dried pasta, rigatoni or penne or whatever is in your cupboard
Cook pasta according to package directions. Saute onion in oil for 8-10 minutes, and use this opportunity to prepare the other ingredients. Add chopped garlic, and saute another 2 minutes. Add both kinds of tomatoes and cook another five minutes. Add black olives, artichoke hearts, salt and pepper, and a splash or two of red wine. Heat through, then add to pasta in a serving dish. Sprinkle with fresh basil. (You could probably add Parmesan cheese if you're so inclined, but I'm never inclined that way.)
Note on ingredients:
I used packed-in-oil sundried tomatoes. If you use dried sundried tomatoes (and why isn't that redundant?) soak them in boiling water 15 or 20 minutes first. If you find yourself with no fresh basil, add dried basil when you add the tomatoes.
