Twenty years ago, I started this website because I wanted a place to share recipes I was excited about, as it’s practically coded into my DNA to be an unfettered yap about the things I love. [This is me.] The larger context was that upon reaching so-called adulthood, I’d found that while I knew how to cook, there were still so many things I hadn’t figured out, such as: how to turn a can of tomatoes into not just an okay pasta sauce, but a spectacular one; how to make really good meatballs; perfect hummus; and a crumb cake I’d want to make forever.

You’d think that 20 years and more than 1400 recipes later, I’d be closing this chapter. What could there possibly be left to know? Haven’t we kale salad-ed and tomato soup-ed and apple pie-d our way to fulfillment yet?

Well no, absolutely not. In fact, most days, I feel like I’m just getting started.

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Do you ever look around at the ingredients available to you, the energy you have to give to the cooking process — or, as I recently explained to a medium-sized child shortly before I got uninvited from future family events, the amount of fudge you have left to give from your, uh, bucket of fudge — and decided to boil spaghetti, toss it with garlicky olive oil, and call it dinner?

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I realize as far as recipes go, suggesting one needs one for lemonade is questionable. What’s next, a set of detailed instructions for salted water, simple syrup, or buttered noodles? (Whoops!) But it turns out I have opinions on everything and there’s no time like the nth heat wave of the summer to share what I consider the correct, best formula for lemonade and it is — who could have ever seen this coming? — mine.

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One of my most exasperating traits — or, perhaps one that makes me ideally suited for this space I invented, coincidentally, to suit my collection of traits — is that I have a terrific amount of random ingredient preparation ideas in the overflowing file cabinet of my brain that will spill into conversations the second I hear the triggering keyword.

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Until recently, I was fairly ambivalent about one-pan pasta recipes. I appreciate them in a pinch [here’s a longtime favorite; and this is my total comfort food], but I sometimes find that when the pasta is cooked in a sauce the whole time, it doesn’t quite get that al dente definition and structural integrity that it does when cooked in water. I’m so glad I didn’t quit on them, though, because with this recipe, not to be dramatic or anything, but I feel like I’ve finally cracked the code.

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