Back in the dark ages when I was recently arrived in civ...Seattle after several years of enjoying the cuisine of small town Minnesota, Karen Anderson attempted to demonstrate that there was more to pasta than "spagetti sauce". Those edible lectures (based on her years living in Genoa) were fun and filling, and only one of the sauces that Karen demonstrated failed to, er, catch my fancy, and I made a note of the name so that I could be sure not to order it in restaurants. Her favorite sauce, as it happened.

So a couple weeks back as I was rummaging in the cupboards, wondering if I had anything low effort at the back or if I'd have to actually cook on a week night, I found myself staring at a tin of anchovies and wondering -- how long have those been in the house? why in the world would I have anchovies? what other relics of yesteryear are lurking in the tinned goods? There followed a brief burst of organizing. Then, with regret, I put back the ginger marmelade and the cranberry curd and resigned myself to cooking. In addition to the inexplicable anchovies, the archives revealed caperberries (I remember buying them but can't imagine what I was thinking at the time), and black olives. Just add garlic (starting to sprout), a sprig of rosemary (home dried -- and not intentionally) and a can of tomatoes and - viola! - luck-of-the-draw pasta sauce! Pungent and delicious. Worth remembering and repeating.

Then a day or two later I remembered Karen and the sauce to avoid.

So I dust off a cookbook, look up the long-remembered name and start ticking off ingredients. Tomatoes - check. Black olives - check. Capers (bud form of caperberries) - check. Anchovies - check. Oh.

Dinner tonight finished off the anchovies and olives with another round of 'fusilli puttanesca'. This weekend it is time for a serious clean-out-the-freezer soup before the local farmers' market kicks into high gear -- I am wondering if I can re-invent minestrone.