This Recipe Will Autumn Your Fucking Face Off

It’s time for another NSFW recipe.

This time: sausage, apples and pasta in brown butter sauce.

It’s delicious.

I mean, it’ll fucking kill you. You’ll eat this and a great big cholesterol-laden ball will lodge in your heart and you’ll seize up but fuck it, you’ll gurgle and coo happily while perishing.

Ready?

OPEN YOUR MOUTH AND YOUR MIND.

Here, then, is what you’re going to do.

Soften a sweet onion. You do not soften an onion with kind words. You do not use Rohypnol. You dice that sumbitch and put it in a hot pan with oil and salt, then lower the heat, cook it down for five to eight minutes. Maybe splash a little water in there if you need further softening. Wilt the onions like a sad erection.

Then: get some ground country sausage. Crumble that shit up in a pan. Use your hands. Don’t be afraid of germs. Raw meat is good for you. (Disclaimer: raw meat probably isn’t good for you.)

Let it get to sizzling. Inhale the fat vapors. Experience a vision quest where you fight a pig-headed god for physical supremacy, and then you cut him open and bacon rains down upon you, crispy and wonderful.

Put a little salt and pepper on there. Sprinkle plenty.

As it browns, set a big ol’ pot of water to boiling for pasta.

Also: chop up two portabello caps.

Grate one carrot. Really fine-like. So much so that the carrot now looks like little piles of bright orange dirt.

Dice up two apples. Two good tart apples that holds up to cooking. Choose an apple with some balls. I like Jonathan apples. Though, Jonathan is not a name that sounds like it has balls, so instead I call these apples “Wolf-Fang Chainsaw” apples. That gets across the sentiment I’m looking for.

Once the sausage is browned, get your veggies into the mix. Stir, stir, stir. Do I need to tell you that? I maybe do. I see you over there. Wearing your pants on your head. Sucking on a dirty shoelace. Weirdo.

Final piece of this: toss in two tablespoons of cider vinegar. Acid is your friend.

Now, pasta into the water.

What kind of pasta? JESUS YOU CAN’T DO ANYTHING FOR YOURSELF CAN YOU. Okay. Okay. I’m calm. I don’t care what kind of pasta you use as long as it’s the kind with some texture, some nooks and crannies and spiral-twirls so it can hold the sauce. You use straight spaghetti or something and I’m going to come over there and burn your eyes shut with a fistful of searing hot sweet onions. Don’t make me.

Cook the [INSERT PASTA CHOICE HERE] for as long as it demands, but cook it to al dente, right? You don’t want to go all the way with the pasta. You want to go up under the shirt and stop there.

Reason being, you’re going to want to cook the rest of it in the sauce.

“What sauce?” you ask.

To which I reply — well, I don’t reply. Instead I take a palm full of cracked black pepper and blow it into your face in order to punish you for your crass impatience. It burns. I know it does.

Go get a tissue. Blow your nose. I’ll wait.

Okay. Sauce.

Six to eight tablespoons of unsalted butter in a hot skillet.

Sprinkle salt over it.

Let it foam up and melt.

Lower heat to med-low, then let that cook while the pasta cooks. Maybe six minutes later, it should be looking brown and smelling nutty, and here you’re thinking, “Chuck’s going to make a poop joke now, right?” but I’m not. I’m really not. This sauce is too good for that. Too. Good. For. That.

Now, take 2 TBsp of creme fraiche — or sour cream, or heavy cream, whatever you have that’s creamy (put your pants back on) — and stir it into the brown butter. Mix it up. Toss in some sage and other herbs. I don’t care what herbs. Herbs de Provence are nice. But get a little rosemary and thyme at least.

Pasta goes into the sauce.

Let it cook in the sauce for another two or three minutes.

Plate the pasta.

Top with the sausage mixture.

Top that with a few crumbled walnuts.

Top that with a little song-and-dance.

Shove into your mouth.

Die happy.

12 comments

  • You never cease to amaze. I did a few recipes on my blog in the day, but it was hot dogs wrapped in bacon, eggplant parmigiana and gumbo. Not together, though I’d eat that on a big hoagie roll, you bet.

  • I like when you cook. It’s mouth-watering fun. A writer who also cooks…nothing better. And AUTUMN is the perfect time with its harvest flavors and colors. I kind of miss the fresh wild game that my dad always killed. It brings back memories.

    I could read “chef” books all day.

  • Speaking of cholesterol–
    I only have about dozen things that I cook, but that shit is good. You’ve inspired me to start posting some of my recipes. I thought I had not posted this one, but when I saw what it named it (#2) I guess I did. But this is the updated, spell-checked version.
    If you ever randomly stumble WordPress, every bitch and her maiden aunt have a blog that they put their recipes on. I get tired of that crap.
    But when I want to make something, I look up a bunch of recipes for it, then pick and choose pieces out it to make it my own. Like this one:
    Friggin Alfredo
    If you ever do a Flash Fiction Challenge Recipe, this is mine.

  • Sounds yummy…but…wait…what the hell is that little, white, out-of-focus spidery thing on the edge of the mushroom?!!

    Please tell me that’s not some weird albino mushroom mite or something that can’t usually be seen with the human eye. Please!

    Never-eating-raw-mushrooms-again!

  • I can’t wait for the Chuck Wendig Cookbook to get published…why the hell not? It will obviosuly need a better name…perhaps one of your weekly challenges? ;)

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