Broccoli Rabe & Garlic Pasta

James proposed on Sunday, September 5. I am writing this on Saturday the 11th, the morning after the video call with Jisoo, which I will write about next week because this week belongs to James.

He did it at Volunteer Park, near the conservatory. We were walking in the late afternoon after a long day of doing nothing — we had cooked pasta for lunch, taken a nap, read for an hour, and gone for a walk because the weather was ridiculous, that post-Labor-Day Seattle light that makes you feel seen. He stopped near the tulip beds, which are not blooming in September but have a bench next to them. He turned to me and he said, "I don't have a speech. I just want to be wherever you are for the rest of my life." He pulled out a ring — a small simple band with a tiny diamond, not showy, exactly the ring I would have picked — and he said, "Will you marry me?" I said yes before he finished the question. I was laughing. I was crying. A woman walking her dog took our picture and I will forever love her for doing that without being asked. James put the ring on my finger. My hands were shaking. It fit. He had, he admitted, measured one of my rings while I slept. "When?" I asked. "Last month." I laughed harder. I could not stop.

I called David first. David said, "Oh, Steph. Oh, Steph. That's wonderful." Karen got on the phone and cried. I could hear her crying through David's voice. She said, "I'm so happy for you, honey. Tell James I approve, although he didn't ask me." I laughed. I said, "He should have." James said, on the phone to her, "I should have, Karen, I'm sorry, please approve me retroactively." Karen said, "Approved."

I called Kevin next. Kevin said, "It's about damn time." That was his whole comment. Kevin is a man of economy.

I called Jisoo third. Or, more accurately, I emailed her, and she responded at 3 AM her time because she was awake — it was Sunday night for me, Monday morning for her — and she wrote back in six minutes. Through the agency translator: "I am crying. I am so happy. I will be there. Even if only on a screen, I will be there. Tell him I want to meet him. Tell him I thank him for loving my daughter." I read that sentence to James. James cried a little. James is not a man who cries often. I am collecting these small tears like they are currency. I have them in a small box in my memory. I will take them out later in life and count them.

We did not tell anyone at work. We will tell them this week. We are not wearing the ring outside the condo yet. It is ours first. I am looking at my left hand right now as I write this and I cannot get used to it. The ring looks wrong in a good way. It looks like a thing from a different life that has somehow ended up on me. That is, I think, how all significant changes look: you do not recognize yourself, and then, slowly, you do.

I made pasta this week. Simple pasta. Olive oil, garlic, lemon, parmesan, a lot of pepper. Spaghetti, cooked al dente. We ate it on Sunday for lunch before the walk. That is the pasta we will always have — the last lunch as two people who were already engaged but did not know it yet.

The recipe is garlic-lemon spaghetti. I will not pretend it is Korean. I will not pretend it is fusion. It is simple pasta on the day the rest of my life began.

The pasta we made that Sunday wasn’t planned as anything special — just olive oil, garlic, and whatever looked good at the store, which happened to include broccoli rabe. It is now, permanently, the meal that marks the before. This broccoli rabe and garlic pasta is what I reach for when I want something simple and true: bitter greens, golden garlic, good olive oil, a handful of parmesan. It takes twenty minutes and it tastes like the afternoon the rest of my life started.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

12 oz spaghetti or linguine
1 large bunch broccoli rabe (about 1 lb), tough stems trimmed, roughly chopped
4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for pasta water
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 lemon, zested and juiced
1/2 cup finely grated Parmesan, plus more for serving
1/4 cup reserved pasta cooking water

Instructions

Boil the pasta. Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to package directions until al dente. Before draining, reserve 1/4 cup of the starchy cooking water. Drain and set aside.
Blanch the broccoli rabe. In the same pot of boiling water (or a separate pot), blanch the broccoli rabe for 2 minutes until bright green and just tender. Drain and pat dry.
Build the garlic oil. In a large skillet over medium heat, warm the olive oil. Add the sliced garlic and red pepper flakes and cook, stirring frequently, for 2—3 minutes until the garlic is golden and fragrant. Do not let it burn.
Add the greens. Add the blanched broccoli rabe to the skillet. Season with salt and pepper and toss to coat in the garlic oil. Cook for 2 minutes until heated through.
Combine. Add the drained pasta to the skillet along with the reserved pasta water, lemon zest, and lemon juice. Toss everything together over medium-low heat for 1—2 minutes until the sauce clings to the pasta.
Finish and serve. Remove from heat and stir in the Parmesan. Taste and adjust salt and pepper. Divide among bowls, drizzle with a little extra olive oil, and top with additional Parmesan.

Nutrition (per serving)

Broccoli Rabe & Garlic Pasta — The Last Lunch Before Everything Changed