Cole’s Spaghetti for Kenna
Cole’s Spaghetti for Kenna
HE KNEW KENNA LIKED SPAGHETTI, AND THAT FELT LIKE ENOUGH OF A REASON TO LEARN HOW TO COOK
Ingredients
· A box of spaghetti noodles (broken in half, because the pot was too small)
· A jar of store-bought tomato sauce. The one with basil on the label
· Ground beef, browned until he is sure it is definitely cooked
· A clove of garlic, minced too big
· Salt and black pepper
· Dried oregano (he adds extra on purpose)
· Olive oil
· Parmesan from the green can (he knew it wasn’t fancy; he brought it anyway)
How Cole Makes It
He fills the pot too full with water and waits longer than necessary for it to boil.
Salts it like he once heard someone say on TV “like the ocean” and hopes that’s true.
The noodles go in crooked. He stirs so they don’t stick, checking the clock every minute.
When they’re done, he drains them carefully, afraid of messing up this part.
In another pan, he browns the beef, breaking it apart with the edge of a wooden spoon.
Garlic goes in last, because he learned the hard way that it burns fast.
The sauce follows, then oregano, pepper, and a little more salt than the jar calls for.
He lets it simmer. Not because the recipe says so—
but because waiting feels like the right thing to do.
When He Serves It
He mixes the noodles and sauce together instead of plating it neatly.
He hands her the bowl first. Always her first.
Parmesan on top. Extra if she wants it.
Cole’s Logic
It doesn’t have to be perfect.
It just has to be warm.
It just has to be there when she is.