Pasta Sauce

by John Saward

When I am in my most abysmal moods, I stay up late making some kind of Pot Meal – soups and chilis, stews, things that require my attention but not my focus, things that take hours of low-investment preparation and maintenance, that seem to prosper with time and patience. It gives the illusion of productivity during any supremely bummed out time—look at it all in there in the pot, vegetables evenly and attractively sliced, herbs tied up in a coffee filter; how resourceful am I? And look at all the extra in those old Tupperwares that I’m going to freeze for later. I can be adrift, half on my phone playing with the filters on NBA.com lineup data, and that’s no problem, because now I have this project, right now I’m working, alright, right now I’m the Dinner Man.