It will be nine years tomorrow since the day that shall not be named.
Almost a decade.
Almost a lifetime.
Almost five minutes.
It feels longest to me when I think back and realize how different I was on that fateful morning in September, when I headed off to school, just barely a freshman in high school. Naive, carefree, and a bit reckless.
But watching two towers fall, not on a tv screen or in a newspaper, but out the window. Firsthand. As it’s happening. Changes a person.
My high school was three blocks away.
We knew by the end of first period that something was wrong. But no one would tell us what or how much. A plane had hit a tower, they told us over the loudspeaker. Probably an accident. Probably just a lost pilot. No worries. Please stand by.
After the second plane (although, at the time, they didn’t tell us there was a second plane. I’m extrapolating.), we were instructed to leave class and go to homeroom, where we were to stay until awaiting further instruction. We were not to leave the room under any circumstances, unless we were told to do so, in which case we would exit in an orderly fashion, led by our homeroom teacher.
Then, after we watched, out the window, as the buildings seemed to crack all at once. And then fall. Fall. Fall.
Our homeroom teacher told us to run. Run for our lives.
And so we did.
Out we went, down the stairs. I was sure I was going to die that day. In that stairwell. Packed to the brim with people, mostly strangers at the time, but people who would end up being my best friends, my life support, through the four years we were going to spend together,
Down we went. Out the door. Into the warm, hot, September air that was laced with ash. Ash that stayed on my fingers and in my hair for days afterward. Ash that sometimes I can still smell today if I think hard enough, though I try not to.
We walked as fast as we could through the streets of Manhattan. Not having a destination. Not even knowing where we were going. I was a sheltered girl from Queens who had never really traversed the city on my own before then. I didn’t understand the layout or the grid or where I fit into it all. All I knew is that I was on the West Side Highway and that I should walk uptown. Away from the smoke. Away. That’s all I wanted.
Somewhere around 34th Street or 42nd, I can’t remember which anymore, in a moment of clarity, my cell phone caught a shimmer of service and managed to pull itself together long enough for me to call my mother, who had been waiting by the phone, both certain I was dead and certain I was alive, in the way that mothers tend to be in such circumstances.
She instructed me to go to the elementary school in which my aunt taught kindergarten, which was somewhere around twenty blocks away. In light of how far we had already walked that morning and how much life we had seen. That was nothing.
In the end, I got home that day in one piece. One piece, but forever changed. I remember going to the movies the next day with my brother and cousins, hallucinating that I heard bombs falling around me everywhere. Absolutely positive that that rinky dink theater in the middle of the suburbs was going to be the sight of the next attack. And that feeling. That feeling of constant unease was one that stayed with me for years afterwards. Even now, I become slightly tachycardic when the subway stops for an extended time in between stations. I hate flying on airplanes, although I do it, semi-frequently. And I have nightmares of future attacks at least once a month. Like I said. Forever changed.
My point, though, is not really to tell you this story, but to remember how, as a country, we all came together afterward. Rallied. Forged a community. A community so giving and so strong and one that I haven’t seen or experienced since. Until this one.
We, as a blogging community, don’t need some kind of catastrophic event to prod us into lending each other support and strength. We do it every day, without pretense. Without thinking twice. And for that. To have that in my life. I am thankful.
And so, as a token of my gratitude, I give you this pasta. Because that is what we do, where I come from. We hand out food to those we love the most. You’re too thin, anyway. Come in. Sit down. Have a bite.
Homemade Spaghetti with Heirloom Tomato, Capers, Anchoves, and Chile
Serves 2, adapted from Symon’s Live To Cook
NOTE – I didn’t use the pasta recipe provided in Live To Cook because it calls for nine egg yolks. I don’t know if you know this but eggs don’t grow on trees. Neither does money, as it turns out. My recipe only calls for two eggs. ‘Nuff said. I also halved the amount of pasta but kept the amount of sauce the same because there is no such thing as too much heirloom tomato sauce. There is also no such thing as too many capers. So I tripled them. I’m going to provide the recipe as I made it and not as the book instructs.
For the pasta:
1 1/2 cups AP flour
2 large eggs
1/2 tbsp water
1. In a stand mixer, combine the flour, eggs, and water. Once the dough comes together, cover it with saran wrap and let it sit in the fridge for 20 minutes.
2. Get your pasta maker ready. After the 20 minutes has passed, take the dough out of the fridge and knead it for a few minutes. Split it into two equal hunks. Start feeding it through the pasta maker, going from the thickest to the thinnest setting. When it’s at its thinnest (or to your desired thickness), run it through the spaghetti cutter attachment. Either freeze or cook in a pot of boiling water for 2 minutes, then strain.
For the sauce:
1/4 cup dried seasoned bread crumbs
1/4 cup panko
1 tbsp olive oil
3 cloves garlic, sliced
1 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
3 brandywine heirloom tomatoes, diced
6 salt-packed anchovy fillets, rinsed and minced
3 tbsp capers
1/4 cup sliced fresh parsley leaves
1. Toast the bread crumbs in a dry skillet over medium heat, tossing as needed, until lightly browned, about 3 or 4 minutes. Remove from the heat.
2. Heat the olive oil in a saute pan over medium heat. When the oil is hot, add the garlic and sweat it for 2 minutes. Add the red pepper flakes and cook for another 30 seconds.
3. Add the tomato, anchovies, and capers to the saute pan. Bring to a simmer and cook for 2 minutes or until the tomatoes have released their juices and the anchovies have melted into teh sauce. Remove the sauce from the heat and add the parsley.
4. Add the cooked pasta directly to the sauce. Toss well. Divide among bowls. Top with bread crumbs.
I am submitting this to Presto Pasta Nights which is being hosted by Abby of Eat the Right Stuff and to Symon Sundays hosted at Veggie By Season!
Please remember to send me your submissions to Regional Recipes: JAPAN by the end of the month!
Well written, Joanne!
Wow, I love this. I can’t even imagine how you felt that day. At all. I was a freshman in college in the middle or rural New Hampshire. It was hard to be away from home for the first time and among so many strangers… But by the end of that night, I felt like I knew everyone so much better. It definitely brought us closer.
I’m so thankful for the blogging community, too 🙂
Oh, and this speaghetti looks phenomenal!
Sues
Oh my goodness … I can’t believe you went thought that, right there in Manhattan. Just a young kid, trying to find her way home. Thank you for seeing the bright side – how everyone pulled together, and so does the blogging world. I remember on that day, I was a senior in high school and we all gathered in our school’s chapel and any students with family in NYC was so frightened. I think that day left a huge mark on everyone.
Thank you for my share of the beautiful spaghetti, dear Joanne 🙂
Thank you for the dish, thank you for the story.
oh wow, I didn’t realize you had seen this first-hand. Thanks for sharing it with us and I wish I could share this dish with you!
Oh Joanne, I had no idea you were right in the thick of it. I thought it was the beginning of the end of the world, and I was in Toronto. I can’t imagine being in the vicinity at the time.
You are right, we all need comfort. And pasta.
You made me cry today instead of laugh, Joanne. It’s a good thing you ended the post with homemade spaghetti or I’d still be sitting here blubbering, making my kids think Mom has finally lost it.
Well written. And thank you for providing comfort food at the end. And I’m jealous of your pasta maker. Is it still okay to say that, with all of this somberness?
Oh Joanne, if I could hug ya through the computer I would girl!
I remember that day and desperately calling my aunt and uncle with no avail worrying for days if they were okay or not. Love ya sweetie!
And love the pasta, most people are too thin and need a good dose of pasta lovin’ : )
Thank you for sharing this horrific story with us Joanne. Living in another country and living day to day it is easy to forget that September 11 is this weekend. We all remember that day like it was yesterday. Thank you also for sharing this delicious pasta dish with us.
I have chills over this. We were in NYC too, my husband downtown, I was in midtown. My husband’s CTO of his company was on the first plane. I can’t believe it’s been 9 years. God Bless America and Never Forget – thanks Joanne! XO
Such a contrast with an ugly but beautiful story and equally tantilizing, beautiful photos of your pasta. It looks extremely delicious – love capers!
A great combination with capers, anchovies and chile!
You tell your story so vividly. I got chills reading it. Thank you.
Joanne I just got chills and teared up. It was right outside your window? Thanks for sharing this dish and the story. In light of how horrible Sept 11th was you are right, people do come together to support one another, especially through food.
Oh, I am one of those who can live eating pasta with simple sauce with anchovies and chili.
Great post Joanne. I can imagine your situation. I was horrified even when I was watching it on T.V. But as you said, that one incident has changed everything about New york.
Btw, loved the pasta. Thanks for sharing it with us.
You brought me to tears remembering that day. That is a day we will surely never forget. I cannot believe you were so close and so young. You must have been terrified. Thank you for sharing your story. Your really are an inspiration.
Your recipe, of course, looks wonderful and incredibly delicious:)
Spaghetti looks so delicious, very beautifully presented…
the colors look awesome, great presentation, your pictures are great!
Wow, Joanne. Really, no words I have are good enough to say to you and all the others that were impacted by this. The only thing I can do is express deep gratitude to you for sharing your story of that day. I can only imagine how actually being there in the midst of it must have felt. I think it’s important to remember, and I truly am grateful to you for sharing.
first i love your as-of-late pasta dishes. they make me want tomatoes so bad.
second. ugh. 9/11 i just don’t even know what to say except they’ll be in my heart forever
Perfect pasta girl, you did a fab job with it. Sometimes when I do thinner noodles on the pasta machine they gum up… the sauce is perfect and feels like all of summer in a bowl.. great recipe!
Geez Joanne, making me tear up in the morning! Beautifully written post. I cannot imagine the weight and magnitude of living that day first hand. Thank you for sharing your experience and more importantly, the gem of value that you gleaned from that day. I’m thankful for your account, for the reminder that we only have today and that you’re still with us. (Gorgeous pasta, too) 🙂
So beautiful, my friend. I’m crying at my desk wishing I could give you a big hug. Thank you.
I can’t imagine what you and your family must have gone thru. But on a positive note the pasta dish looks super good – we have a pasta machine that has never been used, but I’m not sure why.
That’s my kind of comfort food, right there. And, if I ever get scared, I am coming to your place for dinner.
I don’t know what to say besides you are such a great writer, and I am so sorry you had to witness such a horrific event.
On the brighside, I loved this dish and I thank you for choosing it 🙂
wow joanne. That is intense. I cant imagine actually being THERE when it happened. I was in brooklyn. But I remember the panic i had thinking that any minute where ever i was there was going to be an attack. Its amazing.
Thank you for sharing that. I still remember the smell… and I was in brooklyn. Im glad youre here today. xoxoxox
Reading this post has sent chills down my body, Joanne! Three blocks away? You are lucky to be alive and I’m thankful you’re here. Thank goodness you reached your mother. She must have been a wreck!
It almost seems irrelevant, but your pasta dish looks amazing. I am really getting in the mood for more pasta lately with the cooler temps.
Wonderful pasta dish. Love the fresh flavors. Anchovies add so much. Bravo.
Be well.
9 years ago. It seems like a lifetime, and yet like it was yesterday. I can’t believe you were right there in the thick of it. SCARY. It’s certainly one of those moments, years later in conversation, you remember exactly where you were when news broke. Like when Elvis died or John Lennon was shot.
You know MY fear of flying… imagine how I felt after that happened. I’m now nervous driving through tunnels, over bridges, in elevators. Not good.
I mostly think about the little kids that day, who lost their parents either on the airplane, or in the Towers, or fighting to put out the fires. I hope they turned out okay.
Lovely tribute. So well written, as always. I need major comforting now. So I’ll take two bowls of the pasta, please.
You are such a wonderful writer Joanne and I look so forward to reading your posts. This one was very special and personal. I’m also originally from Queens and worked several years in Manhattan. I remember watching all this unfold on TV down here in Va and the indescribable sadness that came over me…And you are right…food is a comfort….
Thank you for sharing your story–so moving, and beautifully written.
Also, the pasta looks delicious. There’s nothing like homemade noodles.
spaghetti looks awesome ….delicious
Satya
http://www.superyummyrecipes.com
By d time im here, am sure we have run outa this delicious pasta, but i dont mind, for a stori as beautifully narrated as this, id sit and be there!
Always wanted to read from an expiernce from somebody i knew and here ur r, yeah thanxx to the wonderful world of blogging am so so happy to know u Jo and i sure missed ya too!
I did catch up with a couple of ur wonderful posts , but couldn leave u a note , coz the only internet i had acess to was the cell phone:-)
THis is absolutely delicious and i love the home made pasta u have around:-)
I wanna try my hand at ravioli too:-)
And ur pics are deliciously bright !!!
BDW am lovin u thru blog loving:-)) ,hope to see u there too…[hint…hint…]
And babes, hugs to ya with lods of love from Mia…
What’s better than homemade spaghetti in a sauce like this? *drool* …but maybe I will give the capers a pass? :O
Wow, I can’t believe you were so close to those events!!! I remeber that day because I was pregnant with my daughter (she’s born in November of 2001) and she’s going to be 9!! I can’t imaging being in it, since even watching it on TV was like you were there…. Thanks for sharing that story Joanne!
beautiful post. you are a wonderful chef and a poignant writer-really touching and sensitively written.
this is a very nice tribute. It was a scary day for all of us. Thank you for this.
I had no idea you were so close to it. I can’t imagine how scary that must of been. And having your teacher tell you to run – I can’t even imagine it. I remember vividly waking up, turning on tv and seeing a live shot as the second plane hit. I seriously thought I HAD to be still sleeping. It was like something out of the Twilight Zone. Anywhoo I’m glad you made it out so you can feed us. And feed us you do – this is the ultimate comfort!
oh goodness. i didn’t know you were there… i was in french class in indiana. it was the beginning of jr yr. well-written, joanne. and wonderful pasta. truly wonderful.
Thank you for sharing such a personal and moving experience with us. I can’t believe it has already been that long…in many ways it feels like it was just yesterday. This dish is comforting and beautiful…a fitting tribute. Thanks again love!
Did I mention that the hubby doesn’t like capers in hot dishes? This recipe is exactly the reason why that bothers me so much… because they taste INCREDIBLE! This is the kind of dish that thrives off of the pairing of capers, anchovies, and all the other wonderful ingredients in here. I may have to force him to try it, because now I’m dying to make it.
Gorgeous photos. And thank you for teaching me the word “tachycardic.” Be well. Gary
Wow, I am honestly sitting here, re-imagining that day now through your eyes. Fear, shock, panic, mixed in with togetherness, love, community. It is amazing to find that on the worst of the days, we can find the best in us. Well written and delightful recipe!
Joanne you are making me crazy hungry!
I never say “hold the anchovies” because I like them–a lot! Thank you for the gift of food. I had no idea that you were in NYC at the time of the conflagration! I’m not sure what else to call it. I, too, have posted about it. I had a close connection, but not as close as you. For today, I wish you–and the world–peace.
Best,
Bonnie
The stories from 9/11 never lose their effect. I had family and friends that were around the towers (and one even below it), but even though all the recollections are so similar, they are also so personal.
Hugs and blessings, Joanne. Thank you for sharing your story with us.
Your account of that day brought tears to my eyes. I remember that horrible day with so much clarity, the complete devastation and horror of it all. Everything was uncertain and it felt like the end of the world was coming. I’m sorry that you had to experience the whole event first hand at such a young age. Let’s hope we don’t have to see anything like that ever again.
I’m with you in regards to the blogging. It’s so much more than a hobby, it’s a little community that I’ve become rather attached to.
Love your changes to Symon’s pasta! Adding more of those salty and briny capers is a brilliant idea!!
Wow, your pasta is beautiful, Joanne! It really is and your photos show how it looks so fresh and homemade…
Any girl that eats anchovies rocks in my book. And so does that pasta.
Trying not to think about 9/11 – because it’s too painful. I was living in NY at the time too…..
Wow…Joanne, you were in the thick of it all! I can’t imagine how you must have felt, just running and running and not knowing exactly where you were headed at that moment. Thank God for cell phones, huh?
That pasta dish is beautiful. Thanks for sharing!
beautiful post girl, love ya…lovely dish
sweetlife
I remember that day as if it were yesterday, and I was not in the middle of it like you were. So scary.
I loved the pasta and the sauce recipe is bookmarked! Well written joanne!
Thanks for sharing your experience on that unforgettable day. I was far away in SW Virginia, but I recall all of the teachers stopping class to turn on the news and everyone just stunned and saddened into silence. I never thought of the strength of the blog community in the way you’ve described here, but you’re right. And I’m so glad to have found it, and you in it :).
Awesome pictures for an awesome plate of pasta 🙂 Anybody making home-made pasta has my forever admiration! It is on my list of “to be tried soon” cooking experience…
I was a freshman in high school too. I remember my dad changing the radio station on the way to school because he thought it was false. When I got to school I knew something was wrong. All we did in my classes that day was watch the news. This day hits me and my husband hard every year, thank you for sharing your story. I can’t imagine the fear you felt, I’m so thankful you were ok.
This dish looks amazing =)
Oh wow. I was in college, at my first internship, and convinced that Boston would be hit next. The next time I flew anywhere, I passed out on the plane from anxiety.
And I gotta tell you, christ, I’m flying tomorrow: FROM Boston – connecting in NYC – and landing in DC. Maybe that’s why I can’t sleep.
I remember watching the attack on TV. I couldn’t believe my eyes. My brother was working very close to that area and I was scared to death. Thank God that day didn’t go to work because he was studying for his exams and he was safe at his home. I feel very sorry for all the innocent people around the world who suffer or die because of the irrational decisions of a minority of persons. Your pasta offers what everybody needs when remembering such ordeals; comfort to the heart.
Today’s a day of remembrance all right. My daughter’s apt. was/still is 4 blocks from ground zero. She was working out in the neighborhood, looking out the window and saw the first plane go in. She called me on her cell as she (and everyone else) was running away. There was a fear that bombs were also dropping on NYC. Nobody knew what else was coming. She was unable to move back to her apt. for 4 months. I thought she handled the aftermath very well and am so proud of her. But she, as anyone living in NYC at the time, will never forget.
WE will never forget either.
Joanne, I got the shivers as I read the opening paragraphs of your post and then I started to choke with sadness. Dear God.
You have pasta perfect here. I would need (want, smiles) a heaping platter.
What a story, Joanne. I can’t imagine. Thank you for sharing. This pasta dish sounds amazing.
On 9/11, I watched the events on TV, five miles uptown, near Columbia U. I had tremors for months and my insomnia is here to stay. But I can’t imagine the intensity of your experience — so young, at 14, literally running for your life. Kudos to you, for writing so exuberantly about nourishment and healing. I love this blog because it celebrates a healthy (primal!) relationship towards food. Brava!
thank you for sharing your 9/11 experience. i was in the 7th grade, in gym class specifically when we first got word. my teacher told everyone to come sit down and listen to the radio. i remember vividly that he said “something is happening. be quiet. this is important.” i still get chills thinking about it.
have a fantastic weekend…
🙂
xo Alison
I am never one to get emotional…never. But as I read this I almost cried Joanne. Seriously, this is so touching! My brother lived just blocks from the site as well and I almost lost him. And I could never have gone on if I had. And I thank God he is still with me today, just as your mother thanks God you are still with her.
Thank you for sharing your story.
Joanne, what a horrible experience that must’ve been. I know we all remember that day and I can’t believe you were so close as it was all happening. Thanks for sharing your memories with us, and I know we are all forever changed because of those events. Your pasta looks great, and thanks for sharing 🙂 I hope we can meet up one of these days soon!
I can’t believe you were right there! I know it was one of the most heartbreaking, scary and life changing days of my life. Tears came to my eyes just reading this post. I’m so thankful that you were far enough away to stay out of harms way ((BIG HUGS))!
Sure wish I could take that serving right off your blog and put it right in front of me. Absolute deliciousness!
Wonderfully written! Thank you for sharing that horrific experience!! I feel for all the kids out there in the world who have to witness these horrible things in the world today!
I just added this post to my Saturday Stumbles and used your picture of your pasta. I hope it’s okay.
I’ve been crying for 2 days and expect I will be crying tomorrow.
All I wanted to do was curl up in my Dad’s lap. Not my husband, not my friends…but my Dad. Can’t remember ever feeling like I needed to be with my Dad more then on that horrible day.
Beautiful post, love! I’m sure all of us in the tri-state area remember exactly what we were doing and how we found out about that devastating day. The aftermath still lingers. I’m glad you got home safe and sound though or I would never have met you! Or this gorgeous pasta. Btw, 9 eggs is preposterous. I’m glad you cut back on the cholesterol. Miss you!
What a great pasta mixture you have!!! All those ingredients are my fave. Sorry, I’m really bad on choosing when it comes to ingredients.
Such an incredible story Joanne. Your story brought tears to my eyes. It’s hard to think about that traggic event without getting emotional. But I say a prayer for all the souls and the families left behind.
Thank you for sharing your story with us and this wonderful recipe.
God bless you dear.
Those were such intense moments, Joanne – to be there in the thick of it. I remember I was in shanghai for a business trip at that time and when the footage came on the tv, I had thought it was a preview to some new movie…..it was too surreal.
Your spaghetti looks beautiful as usual, so intensely vibrant!
I just wrote this whole long insightful comment that blogger ate. But basically, there were two main points:
1. Thank you for connecting such a tragedy and trauma to the human-to-human kindness, compassion, and sharing that we all need. It’s such a simple, important part of our lives that we too easily forget. Something as small as a bowl of pasta shared between two people. There is something graceful there.
2. I think 9/11 has defined and marked our generation distinctly, in a way few other things have. I was eleven. I remember it like it was five minutes ago.
i forgot you would’ve been there at that time! scary. i still remember where i was…
I was in Singapore at that time, turned on my TV and couldn’t believe what I saw…what a tragedy.
Gosh! I was crying so much through your post I had to go back and look at your pasta pics. I can’t even imagine living this first hand. Glad you are still here and that you made it back home to your sweet mom! I would have been crazy with worry! Wonderful post for today. Thanks for sharing this.
I find it hard to believe that its been 9 years…it felt so recent for some reasons!
life is short…all the more to love more, to celebrate and eat pasta 😉
So beautiful, Joanne. I don’t really know what else to say right now…other that, although I’m always saddened when I think about those who were lost and the families and friends left behind…I’m also overjoyed at those who were there and made it through. I’m very glad that you were one of those people. Tears either way.
Poignant writing, Joanne. Hearing your personal account was moving.
And actually eggs do grow on trees, have you never heard of eggplant? 😉
You are so right, there is no such thing as too many capers. I love tossing those babies onto everything (except ice cream!! silly) Since Puttanesca is my all time favorite pasta sauce I am drooling over this recipe.
Sharing our food with those we love most is a wonderful and warm statement-because it is so true,
9/11 was horrible event in American History but the outpouring of love and support should be remembered as a light in the darkness.
I clicked on this link from Foodgawker, looking for a great homemade pasta recipe and found myself not only getting a great recipe, but touching story. I am so glad you posted this. I was a new mom when all of this happened, living in Florida. I watched it all happen on television, glued to the screen and wondering what was happening to our country. I cannot imagine what it must have been like to be in the midst of it as you were. I look forward to many more recipes. Thank you for sharing, I’m sure it wasn’t easy. ((((HUGS))))
Wow nice site! and yr recipes and pics look absolutely delicious! and you look very beautiful too!
do come by my site too if u hv the time … i am fairly new to bloggin .. hehe
Thank you for that story.
And thank you for this entry.
Beautiful pasta dish, very lovely ingredients 🙂 Thank you for sharing your story.
Really nice flavour combination, this sounds delicious!
My gosh that is life changing to say the least.
Like you I love how food can draw people together and re-energize them.
Great dish. I love the combination of anchioves and capers in anything.
When you have homemade pasta, it almost doesn’t even matter what you put on it- It’s guaranteed to be good anyway! I can’t believe you made these noodles, they look so perfect… Mine always come out irregular and too thick. Maybe I should invest in a pasta machine, too.
I can’t imagine being a part of 911. I was thousands of miles away and it was still awful. Thanks for sharing the story.
Looks like a yummy pasta recipe!
Thanks for sharing your story. Most of us never felt the impact the way you did, though I’m sure we were all changed by it. Your pasta looks fabulous!
Beautifully written like usual.. I have goosebumps on my arms.
This pasta is my kind of pasta. Simple. Delicious. Hearty. Nicely done sweets.
What a touching post! Thanks for sharing your story. And I agree about the blogging community. Such a nice thing to be a part of. <3
And of course, your homemade pasta looks amazing. 🙂
I imagine I’m echoing what everyone else said, but this was so well-written, thank you for sharing! (and for sharing another great recipe, but that’s nothing new ;))
What a beautiful post – thanks for sharing your experience with us. I will always remember where I was when it happened and I can’t imagine actually being there and what you went through.
And your homemade pasta looks very comforting.
Your story was so touching…thank you for sharing it and this pasta with us 🙂
I’ve tried to make a batch of noodle for the first time, and I can tell that the process is pretty tiring. 🙂
it was a terrible day for all americans, but i’m sorry you were so closely-affected! thanks for sharing your story and this particularly appetizing pasketti recipe, joanne!
Incredible post Joanne–I can’t imagine what you must have gone through that day. I’m glad you are here with us and making pasta dishes like this one which looks amazing. Take care!
This looks delishhhh 🙂
What a beautifully written post. I can’t imagine the experience of being so close to such a tragic event on such a tragic day. My heart goes out to you and your wonderful strength. Strength in community and strength to continue living life.
This looks like just the things I need to carbo load before my long run this Sunday. Any way you can make it for me?
Reading this was so surreal for me. I think because I was a similar age at the time (7th grade), just old enough to vividly remember it, and all of the stories we heard afterwards were told by people older than us who had completely different experiences. Hearing a story from someone who was my age brought it back in a way that I needed in order to remember that day the way it should be remembered. Thank you for sharing.
We were both college freshmen in North Carolina, and it was definitely a scary day. We were far from the incident, but it still felt like it was next door. It’s amazing how communities can be built and fostered within the worst times. But we heal. 🙂 And we eat pasta afterwards!
Joanne, you may not have intended to tell a story, but that is an amazing story! So glad you are with us today – that big food blogging community would not be the same without you.
Oh, and the recipe, I may finally have a way to try anchovies!
thanks for sharing your story and ppn pasta with us joanne.
There is nothing more comforting after reading your moving tale of that fateful day, than eating two portions of your awesome pasta. Thanks for sharing both with Presto Pasta Nights.
oh joanne-thanks for bringing people together with this post and dish. One will never forget that day…
and what a dish! capers hey… great idea! thumbs up! I love the colours as well- anything with that much red must be good for us right?
We all have our horrific memories of that day, but to be right there. Oh, my. This pasta looks amazing!
Thanks for your well told personal experience. It’s good to remember what happened. I love your dish, so comforting in troubled times.
Wow Joanne, thank you for sharing your story. And this beautiful dish!
Joanne, I am just reading this now, and thank you for sharing your experience. Although we were not in the city, we had many friends who were, it is a day that no one will ever forget.
Many many hugs and love Joanne.
Thank you for sharing this with us. Yet another reminder of how lives were changed forever on that day.
Dear God, I am sitting here with tears in my eyes as I read this and realize just how different we all are. I can not even imagine having been that close to the disaster. I’m glad you are safe. Thanks for sharing this and for linking to it again this year.
Thanks for sharing such a personal story…and yes, this day sure changed our life forever…
I had no idea you grew up in Queens. Your school was so close. I can only imagine how you will carry that day with you forever. Gosh your mom must have been scared. If my kids had been near a disaster like that I would be dying inside. So glad you were far enough away…to grow up and share so much.
“And I have nightmares of future attacks at least once a month. Like I said. Forever changed.” Believe in safety, love & community. Those nightmares will hopefully leave you alone some day. xxoo
By the way…reaching out with that bowl of pasta is beautiful 🙂
Wow – I cannot even imagine being there in the middle of everything. I was visiting NYC one month before the attack, and that was too close for comfort for me. But what an amazing thing it would have been to see the city pull together afterwards. I guess you just have to pray that the good will someday overcome the bad.
wow, just wow.
Sympathizing with you from NY, NY. I was in school that day too; I still remember the plumes of smoke in the sky and the ash falling from it, people coated in dusty white-gray.
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Amazing post, Joanne, beautifully written and very moving. (You’ve brought tears to my eyes to be honest.) I watched the towers fall on television from 3,500 miles away in my comfortable living room in England. I can’t imagine being as close as you were, but this has given me a tiny bit of a sense of what it must have been like. Thank you for sharing. It’s important those of us who were far away really understand and most of all, that we all remember.
Your spaghetti looks amazing. There’s nothing like homemade pasta, and that sauce, oh my! Sharing your post on my Facebook page and all over.