Cupboard with Fridge Sauce

My plan was to come home early and visit my friendly neighbourhood fishmonger to get some decent cod and salmon for a fishcake frenzy, but I kind of got caught up in some pizza bar over on the West Side and ended up gassin' about fantasy football (the foot-type) over a few pints and didn't get home until 9.30pm. Instead, and at a last resort I had to raid the kitchen and ended up gathering together a sorry-looking bunch of ingredients. Some dried from the cupbaord, some wet stuff from the fridge. I arranged them on the kitchen table and sat there with a glass of iced rum scratching my head and wondering how the fuck I might be able to make something out of it all. Then it came to me in a flash! Pasta! Nearly-dessicated grape tomatoes! I was halfway there. I rooted even deeper into the cavernous fridgidaire and found some garlic, Mascarpone, wilted parsley, some dried out proscuitto. Then it all became clear. Set the pasta cooking in boiling water, shred some onion and garlic, sweat over a medium heat for a few, add the grape tomatoes, a swidge of ketchup, cook for a bit longer, add a jigger of port (yes - I still had some left) and let it bubble, add Mascarpone, swill about a bit, prance around the kicthen like you're Mario Batali, drain pasta, mix with the spur-of-the-moment sauce, garnish with Parmesan cheese and some dodgy old parsley. "Fast food my way."

I switched on the box, sat back and got messy. For something knocked up on the hoof, it was damn tasty. Those tomatoes, while they looked dried-out and very sorry for themselves, they were super sweet and a liberal shower of Parmesan cheese with it's muscular saltiness brought out the best in them. I chopped the ham into thin shreds and draped them over the pasta. One for the family cookbook, for sure.