The DMV, am I right?

The last time UaKS traveled to the DMV, I channeled my inner Joe Schultz and taught Mom how to say "shit" and "fuck" in all their possible combinations,[1] while she and Cassie spent nearly five hours rotting at the DMV. Not long ago, I had to make my own trip there to have Grandpa Guy's car re-registered in Virginia. I stood at the end of a long line in a cold rain for about 15 minutes, waiting for the doors to open. Once I was inside, it was literally less than 5 minutes before someone behind me in line stumbled and retched, emptying the contents of her stomach all over the floor near me. Welcome to the Virginia DMV, motherfucker.

When I finally got to the triage—er, information—desk, the woman at the counter told me I needed Mom's signature on one of the forms. Shitfuck. But not to worry, when I got back to the DMV, I could go back to the same woman at the desk and she'd get me a good number to be served quickly. So off I went from Pantops all the way to WMS, where I obtained Mom's signature, then drove back to the DMV. By that time, however, the woman I had spoken with was no longer on duty at the information desk, so it was back to square one in the triage line. Fuckshit. I worked my way through the line again, got my number, and sat down to wait for a little over an hour. Once I finally got to the counter, it went relatively quickly, so it was only a little over 3 hours' worth of DMV pain in total.

As part of the process of re-registering the car, I canceled the New York insurance on it. About a month after cancelling the insurance, I got a note from the New York DMV addressed to Grandpa Guy saying he'd violated the New York Vehicle and Traffic Law by allowing the insurance on his vehicle to lapse. So I called the DMV in Albany to let them know the situation. For one of the very few times that I've had to talk to anyone about something involving Grandpa Guy, I got no condolences, just a brusque, "Well, you still have to send the license plates back." Welcome to the New York DMV, motherfucker. I was tempted to ask what they were going to do to Grandpa Guy if I didn't send them the plates, but instead I took a breath and thought of the dharma as I jotted down the address in Albany. I sent in the plates, with a note again explaining what happened, including that the car had already been re-registered in Virginia, and figured I was done with that annoyance.

Until two days ago, when I got another piece of mail addressed to Grandpa Guy from the New York DMV, which says that they received and destroyed the plates, but that, due to the insurance lapse, they have suspended his registration for 41 days,[2] pursuant to section 318.1(a) of the Vehicle and Traffic Law. It's just another pointless act by some pencil pusher, but what it really amounts to is, Sayonara from the DMV, motherfucker.

---------
[1] Only Uncle Bob can truly understand the humor in this.
[2] Why 41 days? I have no idea. It would've been so much better had it been 42 days, which is, of course, the answer to life, the universe, and everything.

*********

I recently stumbled across this recipe by Lynne Rosetto Kasper, who wrote two of my favorite Italian cookbooks, The Italian Country Table (1999) in particular. Mom and I have been scarfing the first tuna pasta regularly since I wrote about it four months ago, so I thought it might be good to try another one for a change. It is high praise indeed to say that we liked this at least as much as Judy Rodgers's very different recipe. If you're looking for a shot of protein to fuel your climbing or other athletic endeavors, this is the ticket, with three substantial sources of protein (pasta, beans, and tuna) in one dish. But the tuna is optional, so if you're a vegetarian or just not feeling tuna, you can leave it out and it will still be good.

Sicilian Corkscrews with White Beans and Tuna

Adapted from The Splendid Table's How to Eat Supper (2008) by Lynne Rossetto Kasper and Sally Swift via The Splendid Table (with video)

Time: 35 minutes

The original recipe calls for fusilli, but the pictures and video actually show something more like the DeCecco cavatappi (which is literally the Italian word for corkscrew) that Uncle Clint uses for his Mac & Cheese. The recipe also expresses a preference for whole wheat or “dried legume style” (e.g., chickpea, lentil) pasta. Of necessity, I used our new favorite Wegmans Organic Gluten Free Brown Rice Fusilli, and they worked well. The recipe also calls for ½ teaspoon hot chile vinegar, which is supposedly “found all over southern Italy, made from homegrown, stingingly hot peppers,” though I don’t recall such a thing in my Nonna’s kitchen. They say Tabasco sauce is a “respectable stand-in,” but I don't usually have that around either, so I've substituted both sriracha, which is not like Tabasco, and sambal oelek, which kinda is (they both have only red chiles, salt, and vinegar). The other change I made was to use only one can of beans instead of the two called for in the original recipe; Mom and I thought one can was plenty, but you can go for two if you’re up for a fart-fest.

80 grams (6 tablespoons) extra-virgin olive oil
½ of a large red onion, peeled, ends trimmed, and thinly sliced from pole-to-pole into half moons
kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper
⅔ cup (157 grams) water
3 tablespoons fresh Italian parsley leaves and thin stems, coarsely chopped
3 medium garlic cloves, minced, more to taste
18 grams (1 heaping tablespoon) tomato paste
½ teaspoon Tabasco or other hot sauce, more or less to taste (see note)
1 (15-ounce) can cannellini or Great Northern beans, drained and rinsed
2 teaspoons fine sea salt
½ pound/227 grams corkscrew pasta (see note)
25 grams (~½ cup) freshly grated Parmesan or pecorino Romano cheese
½ teaspoon cornstarch, optional
1 (5-ounce) can tuna packed in olive oil, optional (preferably Wild Planet Albacore Solid Wild Tuna in Extra Virgin Olive Oil)

    1. Bring 3 quarts of water to a roiling boil in a large, covered stockpot.
    2. Meanwhile, place the oil in a large, straight-sided sauté pan (one that you have a lid for) over medium heat. Stir in the onions. Season with a pinch of kosher salt and a few grinds of black pepper. Sauté, stirring occasionally, until the onions are softened, about 7–8 minutes.
    3. Stir in the ⅔ cup water, parsley, garlic, tomato paste, and hot sauce. Cook, stirring occasionally, until most of the water has evaporated, about 6 minutes.
    4. Gently stir in the beans. Simmer for 2 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat, and cover.
    5. When the pasta water comes to a boil, stir in the sea salt. Add the pasta, and stir a few times during the first minute or two to keep it from sticking. Cook until a minute or so short of al dente.
    6. While the pasta is cooking, combine the grated cheese and cornstarch. This will help keep the cheese from clumping up when you add it to the hot pasta and sauce, but you can skip this step if you want to.
    7. When the pasta is almost done, scoop out 1 cup of the pasta cooking water. Drain the pasta.
    8. Uncover the sauce, then place it back over medium heat. Stir in about ¾ cup of the reserved pasta cooking water. Cook for 1 minute, then stir in the drained pasta, and cook for another minute or so to finish cooking the pasta to your liking.
    9. Remove the pan from the heat. Stir in the cheese and the tuna, if using. Add more pasta water as needed to adjust the consistency. Taste for seasoning. Serve promptly. Serves 3–4.