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Hello!

Last week, we went on a two-day mini trip—camping again. The first full day back home is always a reset for me, a methodical wandering through my garden, collecting overripe tomatoes about to fall from the vine, trimming away brown bits, and gathering beans.

In the kitchen, my optimism is palpable. I clean out the remaining veg from the crisper drawers and launch into a trio of soups: Nagymama’s Zöldbab Leves (green bean soup) with zucchini, onion, and fennel, anything else springing forth by the bunches, Brothy Summer Chili with earthy smoked paprika and melted zucchini, and Chicken and Wild Rice soup, with late-season carrots. But as the week wears on, emails from schools and pending sports cloud my thinking—clutter my inbox. I send checks, order uniforms, and stare at the calendar thinking, how?

I want to cling to sparkly tomato salads, but my heart says lasagna.

This summer, our tomatoes have gone completely rogue; having not bothered to trim to the tops as I usually do, they responded by vining up the bean teepee—then draping dramatically over the Swiss chard and kale like a swooning debutante. There are tomato limbs trampled under the magic honey nut squash plant that lept across four raised beds and into the crushed marble pathway, dropping the tiny red orbs in its wake.

It feels like a metaphor for August, a mishmash of highs and highers, coming to a sudden, crashing halt.

There’s a solution for times like these: Pasta. The dinner everyone will eat. The place to pour out all your sorrows about summer slipping away. The inspiration required to hold on to slower nights a little longer while we brace for the cold.

So what if this year I don’t have the kind of perfect tomatoes that are great for thick slicing into salads? They are small and plentiful, bursting, and ready to be coaxed on the stove with onion and garlic in a slick of good oil. They will serve us, this weekend and beyond—into the depths of September when those shorter days come. When finally I surrender the defeat of summer nights.

But—not quite yet.

For tonight, I offer you Melted Tomato Spaghetti. I first wrote the recipe, pictured, for New York Times Cooking—and called it One-Pan Bruschetta Spaghetti. Add bacon up front (with the garlic onions), and it could be BLT Pasta. I wrote that it was ideal for the dead of summer, but I now know it is best whenever you need it most.

xx

Sarah

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MELTED TOMATO SPAGHETTI

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 yellow onion, thinly sliced

4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced

Pinch red pepper flakes

1 tablespoon cider or red wine vinegar

12 ounces Spaghetti, bucatini or linguine, broken (do not use Angel's hair)

2 lbs cherry tomatoes, Roma or Campari tomatoes, halved or rough chopped if large

1 teaspoon sea salt

Freshly ground black pepper

1/2 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese, plus for serving

1 large handful (about a cup) fresh basil, for serving

Heat oil in a large, deep skillet or a Dutch oven over medium-low. Add the onion and cook slowly to soften, stirring as needed, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic (and bacon or pancetta if you want to go the BLT route) and cook until fragrant, 3 to 5 minutes more. Add red pepper flakes and vinegar, and stir until the vinegar evaporates.

Add the pasta dry (yes, uncooked and dry!), followed by the tomatoes. Pour over 2¾ cup water and season with salt and pepper. Cover the whole dish with a lid and bring it to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer on medium-low until the pasta is just tender, about 10 minutes, stirring regularly so the pasta doesn’t stick to itself. Uncover, check the pasta and cook until the liquid has tightened to a loose sauce, just enough to coat your noodles, about 5 to 8 minutes more. (If your tomatoes are juicier, you can cook a little longer to thicken the sauce to your liking.)

Taste and season with more salt and pepper as needed. Toss with cheese and basil, swirling with tongs to melt the cheese and seal the flavor into the sauce. Serve warm.

Cook’s note: If you’re skeptical about one-pan pasta—feel free to cook the pasta separately, and do the melted onion/tomato bit in the pan. Don’t add the water; instead, toss in fully cooked pasta after the tomatoes are melted down to a sauce.

5 MORE SPAGHETTI SEASON SAVERS

I just discovered this Spaghetti Alla Nerano, apparently Stanley Tucci’s favorite pasta ever—on the blog Platings + Parings (via Pinterest). We are big-time Eggplant Parmesan lovers in this house, and this spaghetti version hits all the same notes.

Alexandra Stafford reminded me of this No Cook Putanessca from Bon Ap I’ve been wanting to try for ages, found in her weekly The Farm Share Newsletter (highly recommend!).

I developed this Spaghetti with Fennel, Burratta and Garlic Chile Oil for New York Times Cooking a couple summers ago, and it’s my ultimate comfort food for changing seasons.

Today’s letter from

And let’s not forgot

Photos by Thuss + Farrell for the New York Times. Styling by Sarah Copeland.

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