Night-Blooming Hunger
Some wildflowers only open after dark, their petals unfurling under moonlight. This pasta is their culinary cousin—a midnight ritual, a solitary bloom of flavour when the house is quiet and hunger whispers. Garlic sizzles in olive oil like crickets singing in summer grass. Chilli flakes add warmth, the kind that spreads slowly, gently, like dawn approaching. Parsley brings green life, parmesan adds earthiness, and suddenly you have alchemy in a bowl. No fuss. No audience. Just you, a fork, and the quiet satisfaction of something simple made beautiful. This is the recipe that asks nothing and gives everything.
