
It was always the same pattern.
“Dearest, what vegetables would you like?”
“I don’t know.”
“We need some greens… they’re good for us.”
“Okay.”
“You never have any greens.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do, sometimes!”
This weekend, too, she sat in her study, filling in the online order form for the organic fruit and vegetables delivery. This weekend, too, he was in his study, across the corridor, busy on his own computer.
“Shall I read you what they have available?”
Click, click, tap, tap, clickety-tap, tappety-click.
“Dearest? Hello?”
“Yes?”
“Shall I order us some then? Will you eat them?”
“Order what?”
“Two dozen oysters!”
“What?!”
“For crying out loud! What have we been talking about for the past five minutes?!”
“Right, sorry, sweetheart – vegetables. Yes.”
“Yes – what? Will you eat green leafy vegetables if I buy them?”
“Yes.”
“Spinach or kale?”
“Not mad about either.”
“You don’t have to be ‘mad’ about them. Shall I order some curly kale?”
Click, tap, click, tap, tappety-clickety-tap.
“For Heaven’s sake – it’s like drawing wisdom teeth! How about you do the ordering this time?! Then you can buy whatever you like.”
“Sorry, sweetheart… No, kale is fine. I love kale. Kale rocks.”
He was taking out the water glasses from the cupboard and folding the napkins, while she served the food. The main dish and the side of potatoes and steamed curly kale.
“That’s enough kale for me, thanks.”
“That’s hardly anything – I can’t eat all the kale myself!”
“I’m not mad about kale…”
“Add some olive oil and a few drops of balsamic vinegar.”
He made a face.
“You told me to buy it! ‘Kale rocks’ were your exact words. It’s the same thing every time. You say you’ll eat it and then I have to finish most of it. You don’t like kale, you don’t like spinach, you don’t like Savoy cabbage… What is your problem with greens, anyway? You’re not a child –”
“I like broccoli!”
“I’ve got broccoli coming out of my ears. It’s always broccoli –”
“Not always.”
“Look, it’s not like I don’t have a full-time job, too! How about you cook for the rest of the week?”
“Okay. Sure. What shall we have?”
“Aaargh!!!”
This weekend, as she clicked on the online order form, just as she was about to call out to her husband across the corridor, she suddenly stopped herself and listened to the sounds from his study.
Click, click, tap, tap, clickety-tap, tappety-click.
She filled in the form and pressed Save.
A few days later, they sat having lunch at the kitchen table, listening to a concert broadcast from Wigmore Hall on BBC Radio 3.
“This is delicious,” he said. “Truly delicious.”
“Good. I’m glad you like it.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever made this before. It’s really yummy. As a matter of fact, I’m going to have some more.”
“Help yourself.”
“Would you like another helping? If not, I’ll…”
“I’ve had enough, thank you. You go ahead and finish what’s left.”
He heaped his plate with food.
“Gosh, I’ve given myself quite a lot… Never mind, it’s just too scrumptious.”
“Eat to your heart’s content.”
“Yum. Can you make this again sometime soon?”
“Sure.”
“I especially like this green sauce you’ve made for the pasta… What is it, some kind of pesto?”
“Sort of.”
PEA FLOUR PASTA WITH KALE SAUCE à la Menteuse.
(all measurements are approximate, see https://scribedoll.com/2023/01/15/new-blog-feasts-fancies/

Your accomplices:
❧ Green curly kale
❧ Pea flour fusilli
❧ A small handful of dried porcini mushrooms
❧ 1 clove of garlic
❧ Parmigiano Reggiano (freshly grated)
❧ Extra-virgin olive oil
❧ Salt, pepper

Soak the porcini mushrooms in about 400 ml of boiling water for about half an hour.
Wash the curly kale thoroughly.
Pour the porcini and the water they have been soaked in into a large saucepan, add all the kale and the clove of garlic and bring to boil. Simmer until the kale is soft but not mushy. Add salt and pepper to taste.
Let the kale mixture cool down, then put everything into a blender. The result should be liquid enough for pasta to be cooked in. Alternatively, you can make the sauce a little thicker and part-boil the pea pasta.
Put all the pea pasta into an ovenproof dish and pour the kale, porcini and garlic sauce over it. Mix it gently, to make sure the fusilli are coated nicely. Add a generous drizzling of olive oil.
Sprinkle a generous amount of Parmigiano over the top.
Bake in oven until the pasta is cooked and and the cheese has browned.

Loved the conversation.
Thank you!
The story amusing and terrific!:-)) It seems like “Misery non deve morire” in some way…:-)))
I’m glad you liked it. But I am totally astounded as how you can think this is in any way like Stephen King (is it that scary?)
Glad you got some greens in him, Katia, and the dish looks great. Are you ever going to tell him what was in it? ~nan
Not everything I write is entirely from real life… ;–)