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Spelt wholemeal pasta with pimped up marinara

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When in doubt, always make pasta. This is a very tomatoey take on the marinara and frankly my dear, I give a damn because I love it.


wholemeal spelt marinara pasta

Spelt Wholemeal Pasta with Pimped Up Marinara:

spelt wholemeal pasta

2 tbsp olive oil

2 cloves garlic, chopped

1/2 tsp chili flakes

1/2 cup chopped sun dried tomatoes

2 cans chopped tomatoes

200g cherry tomatoes

1 tbsp tomato concentrate

fresh basil

salt and pepper

  1. Start by boiling water for pasta.
  2. Heat olive oil in a pan. Add chopped garlic and chili flakes. Fry on low heat for 2-3 minutes.
  3. Add chopped sun dried tomatoes, chopped tomatoes. Let it simmer.
  4. In the meantime cook pasta. Add tomato concentrate to the sauce. Stir. Add sliced cherry tomatoes. Simmer while the pasta cooks.
  5. Drain pasta, add it to the sauce with chopped basil, salt and pepper. You can serve it with a sprinkle of chopped parsley and parmesan.


It’s after the Oscars and all its controversy. There was a film which didn’t get many nods apart from 3 nominations. I’m talking about ‘Sicario’.

Maybe because its subject was a bit uncomfortable or because of quite brutal and realistic scenes. But it was a very well directed film with great acting, strong Emily Blunt and amazing Benicio Del Toro.

Which makes me think, what has changed since the year 2000, when ‘Traffic’ got so many awards.

I am mentioning ‘Traffic’ for two reason – similar subject – war on drugs in Mexico, and Benicio del Toro.

It seems like from ‘Traffic’ to ‘Sicario’ del Toro’s career made a perfect circle. He played a honourable police officer who wanted to stop cartels and corruption in ‘Traffic’. His role in ‘Sicario’ seems like an older, disillusioned version of his character from ‘Traffic’, not playing exactly by the rules anymore.

You can’t not notice or remember Emily Blunt as a strong, principled female character. I also admire the fact that 10 years ago this role would be more likely given to a man.

I just don’t understand the Oscar snub, but hey, I always preferred SAG Awards or Golden Globes over Oscars.



About potatofaces

People who cook always go on about precious memories of childhood food one of their family members cooked, how daddy or nanny taught them the importance of cooking and eating together, and they still remember the comfort food they produced, amazing dishes whipped up by brilliant but humble cooks in their family. Well, let me tell you, it was totally different in my family. My mother’s family – totally useless as cooks, who could survive on bread and butter, cooked once a week a terrible, terrible meal, usually some kind of meat piece with lots of brown sauce. Also, they were never bothered about eating together. That’s maybe why most of them were depressed and suicidal. My mother followed that path and couldn’t really cook, and because I never wanted to eat meat, was warning me that ‘one day I will regret it’. Probably because my mother wasn’t into cooking my sister at the age of 12 took over and started producing amazing dinners and cakes. Well, luckily for me and her we weren’t that genetically doomed because apparently my father’s family were gifted in that compartment. I can only presume it was genes, as my father divorced my mother when my sis and me were little and he strongly believed that he also divorced us. So, we were growing up never having any contact with him and as a result, couldn’t learn how to cook from him. That’s why I believe the love of cooking ( and the ability) was just passed to us genetically. My father, short time before he died, unexpectedly felt an urge to contact us. First he gave my sister a mandolin (that’s another thing I know about him- he played a few instruments). My sister refused to talk to him, he then decided to contact me and wanted to spend some time with me. I didn’t want to, as he was a stranger to me (I was 11 or 12 at the time) but as I was promised I could leave whenever I wanted to, I went to the village he lived in. There I tried his mother’s cooking everyone was raving about. It was simple and amazing, I wish they were as family dedicated as they were at baking, cooking, making pastries, wine, tinctures, you name it. But I ate, drunk, and got bored of strangers who were my family and demanded to be let to go home. One of the last things my father said to me was that I should start learning English because I might need it one day, which I ignored for another 16 years… Because my sister was such a domestic goddess I wasn’t really bothered about cooking. I got hooked properly after my son was born and I wanted him to eat healthy and get everything he needed, especially that it wasn’t his choice to be a vegetarian (yet). And that is how the story begins…

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