Pasta Al Psychotica - A cautionary tale.

If you look up at the header you'll see a quick list of subjects I intended to touch upon in this blog.
Cooking is not one of them.
 As we shall see, there is a very good reason for that.

  Pasta Al Psychotica - A nourishing dish for one hard-up, single male.

You will need:

 Two/three slack handfuls of pasta. Doesn't matter what kind. It won't help.

Two tins of economy chopped tomatoes. You can use plum tomatoes if you like, you just have to hit them with a spoon a few times to break the buggers up a bit.

A generous pinch of oregano. 

A good dollop of  West Indian Hot Pepper Sauce.

Four or five sausages.

An unwarranted confidence in your own cooking abilities.

Tastebuds that know no fear.

To be skint enough that you can't afford the kebab you'd rather be eating.

Prepare as follows:

1. Throw the sausages on a baking tray and lob them into the oven. Go read or something for 25 minutes until they're well-cooked. Remember to turn the oven off at this point.

2. Put a big pan of water on the stove. When it comes to the boil add pasta. 

3. Add some more pasta until it looks about right. Maybe a bit more just for luck. Stir, cover and ignore for twenty minutes or so. Personally I like to hit Youtube at this stage. Other cooks might prefer Reddit but it's your call.

4. Pasta's cooked. Maybe a bit overcooked. Ah what the hell. Makes it easier to eat. Turn it down and move on to the sauce .

5. Hack sausages into  bits. Make "Weep.Weep. Weep" Psycho shower-scene stabby noises as you do this.

5. Throw tomatoes, sausages and oregano into another pan and put on a moderate heat.

6. Add Pepper sauce.

7. Add more you wuss. 

8. More! For you are a MAN and fear not spicy things.

9. Go back to book on Spitfires while sauce cooks. Realise you should have been paying attention when the sauce starts spitting all over the cooker top. Presumably that means it's cooked.

10. Stir sauce. Glumly contemplate the fun you will have cleaning this pan. And the cooker. And the worktop. And the wall. 

 How the hell did the exploding sauce get on the fridge? That's five feet away?  

11. Drain pasta. Drop some of it in the sink and scald hand. Deploy extensive vocabulary of rude words.

12. Dump sauce in on top of pasta and return to the heat. Stir inelegantly until it all looks mixed up or you lose interest. 

13. Realise you once again forgot how much pasta swells up when cooked. There does seem to be a lot of stuff in that saucepan. It's coming out over the top, in fact. Oops.

14. Serve with bread that's significantly past the sell-by date.

15. Realise you may, just may, have overdone it with the pepper sauce as you take your first mouthful and your tongue shrivels up.

16. Eat with tears streaming down your face. Once your tastebuds shut down in self-defence it's not that bad. And you've got plenty left over for tomorrow, after all.  

Edit: For those that wanted  visual proof, I went and took a photo of the abomination as it brooded in the saucepan, plotting ruination to the world of man. Here. Behold my shame.

Those dark lumps are overcooked chips. I thought they might add an interesting contrast in texture.
Nope.