Easy Weeknight Pasta Sauce

When I first wrote this out, I’m going to be honest and say that I didn’t want to share it. I didn’t want to share it because it’s so vulnerable and so raw. It feels like weakness and seems silly and insecure when I read the words aloud. But most of all, I didn’t want to share it because, well, it’s about this blog, this BurntToast world that I have thrown my heart and my soul into for the past six months. I didn’t want to share it because it would mean admitting weakness and failure, or at the very least lack of success. It would mean admitting that everything is not perfect or beautiful or wonderful. And we all know that that’s scary as hell.

But here I am, like usual, with no filter sharing it with y’all anyway. Because I don’t know how else to do life anymore.

Blogging is tough, and this past month it has been like a beating on my soul. There is so much more work than y’all see. It’s a passion, yes, but it’s still extremely taxing. 

Blogging is endless hours of perfecting a craft. It’s writing and writing and writing some more. And then it’s creating, cooking, tasting, creating and cooking some more. (True story: during my whole Lemon Poppy Seed muffin escapade Mr. BurntToast actually had to cut me off, citing the massive amounts of money that we were dropping on Poppy Seeds as a financial hazard. And he was dead right.) It’s taking 100 pictures just to use 3 and constantly looking for new and exciting plates, bowls and backgrounds. 

And friends, that’s just the fun part. The part that I love.

Then comes the stuff that’s not so great. The ecourses on Pinterest tactics and Instagram algorithims. The creating and perfecting and re-pinning of pins on Pinterest. HOURS of re-pinning pins on Pinterest. The Facebook groups and Instagram stories (which I still hate) and share for share/follow for follow threads that seem to go nowhere. The weeding through posts from other bloggers about getting 5000 views in their first day and if you’ll only buy their new e-course for $300 you, too, can have their success. The trying not to cry when seeing your numbers tank and trying not to get prideful when they rise. The negative comments and feedback and the inevitable internet troll. The self-promotion when you don’t want to promote and social media when you want to be anything but social. 

That’s the part that I hate.

And the weight of all of that work was starting to frustrate and crush me, slightly nudging my focus to the left, away from the call of my passion and gifts. I felt like I had to strategize and strategize and strategize some more to grow this thing. Views became a god and engagement became a religion. I began to do more of the stuff I hate and less of the stuff I love, losing sight of who led me here and why I started with each passing social media post that I felt forced to do in the name of “growth.” 

And it didn’t feel authentic and real anymore. It felt forced and fake. And not at all what I wanted out of this, or what I felt I was called to do. And guess what? It didn’t even work. My views started to tank and my engagement went down.

Friends, this was killing me. 

And this is where I found myself last night, down on hands and knees in my actual closet asking for help. Asking for guidance. Throwing a lambskin (or the nearest sweater) down on the ground like Nememiah, begging God to give me a sign that I wasn’t way off base with this whole thing. Asking Him to show me if I should just quit already.

And do you want to know what God said to me?

He said “Meg, get your butt back in the kitchen.”

OK. No, not really. What really happened was a lot more subtle, though arguably less humorous. What happened was I began to remember who God is. I began to remember His promises. I began to remember His faithfulness and His steadfastness. And I began to remember that He has called me to do this, but He hasn’t called me to do it alone. He’s not going to let me go.

I remembered my why, friends. My why is because I love to cook and have a passion for sharing it. My why is because I love to write and have stories to share. My why is because last August I asked God what He wanted me to do with my life and my passions and my gifts, and He directed me here. 

My why is not FB groups and massive views and engagement and Instagram likes. My why is not to grow to be a millionare (or even a hundredaire). My why is not to feel like I have to be a slave to social media if I don’t want to or spend hours doing something I hate. My why is not to become inauthentic. My why is not any of that stuff. 

My why is because I was called to do this.

So I have to trust. I have to know that He is with me. I have to let Him direct my steps and listen for His guidance, and I have to know that when I start to feel inauthentic and unreal, it’s probably a good sign to snap back and readjust. He’s got this, even if I don’t know what exactly this is.

And, mostly, I need to get my butt back in the kitchen and do what I love and share it with y’all, even if it is just two of you.

And if there’s anything I go back to when I’m feeling lost and off-kilter it’s this, my favorite meal ever, my death row meal. Spaghetti and Marinara. Maybe it’s because I’m from the East Coast. Or maybe it’s because I have happy childhood memories centering around my uncle and his Italian family and the amazing magical food they would make at the holidays. But this is my jam. I love the comfort and the joy of diving in to a giant bowl of pasta with sauce, carbs be damned. And while I love a good jarred sauce any day, this homemade version is so much better. It’s deceptively quick and has the depth of a long-simmered sauce thanks to tomato pasta and a dash of red wine. It’s spicy and sweet and just about everything you could want in a bowl of pasta.

So, friends, if you’re discouraged or even if you’re not, remember that God has a plan for you and it is unfolding now around you, whether you’re actively participating in it or not. He works all things for the good, even when we don’t feel it. So make yourself some pasta, take a deep breath, and get your butt back to where you belong, wherever that is.

Love, peace and pasta,

Meg 

Also, is it weird that I have a death row meal picked out? Yes? No? Maybe?

Easy Weeknight Marinara Sauce

December 13, 2019

Print This

By: Meaghan Dawson

Ingredients

• 1 tablespoon Olive Oil
• 1 large onion, finely chopped
• 3-4 cloves of garlic, minced
• 1/8 teaspoon crushed red pepper (can go up to 1/4 if you like it spicy)
• 1 teaspoon oregano
• Salt and Pepper
• 1 28 ounce can peeled San Marzano tomatoes (with basil if desired)
• 2 tablespoons tomato paste
• 1 tablespoon coconut sugar (or granulated)
• Generous splash of dry red wine (optional)
• 1/4 cup minced fresh basil (plus more for topping)

Directions

• Step 1 In a large stock pot bring the oil to heat over medium-high.
• Step 2 Add in the onions then the garlic (making sure the onions provide a bed, keeping the garlic from scalding), red pepper, oregano and a generous shake of salt and pepper.
• Step 3 Sweat for 5-10 minutes, until tender, translucent and fragrant.
• Step 4 Add in tomatoes, paste, sugar and basil, using a potato masher to crush up the whole tomatoes.
• Step 5 Bring to a boil, adding salt and pepper to taste.
• Step 6 Reduce heat and simmer, 15-20 minutes until flavors meld.
• Step 7 Add splash of wine to taste, if desired.
• Step 8 Serve over pasta with shredded parm cheese.
• Step 9 Enjoy!

Sharing is Caring

Facebook

Google

Twitter

Linkedin

Stumbleupon

Yummly