Pesto Pasta Pomodoro

I like to combine two different dishes into one sometimes, because I live on the edge. I'm out of control.

It's pesto. It's pomodoro. Did you know pomodoro means "tomato" in Italian? You can use that tidbit next time you find yourself at Olive Garden. They won't know what it means, of course, because they're mostly not Italian there. But YOU'LL know. Once, at a restaurant I won't name here, I ordered haricots verts and I actually pronounced it the way it's supposed to be pronounced (ah-REE-koh vehr, if you were wondering) and the waitress looked at me like I had a couple of extra mouths and made me point to what I wanted. She said, "Oh, you mean the harry-cots verts?" I get it. It's not English. But you work here, so...

Anyway, onto pesto pomodoro. By the way, this would taste really good with some grilled chicken thrown in, but otherwise it's super-awesome vegetarian or a good Meatless Monday deal. It's also ridiculously easy to put together if you've made the pesto (or bought it) ahead of time — we're talking 15 minutes. Winning.

PESTO PASTA POMODORO
Ingredients:
1 lb pasta, cooked and drained, any shape (I used fusili, above)
1/2 cup reserved cooking water from the pasta
1 beefsteak tomato, diced (or sub 1 can of diced tomatoes, drained)
1 can white Northern beans, drained & rinsed
2 cups chopped baby spinach
dollop or two of pesto (find my recipe for it here)
grated romano cheese (or parmesan)

To make:
Pour the reserved pasta cooking water back into the pot with the pasta. Add the tomato, beans and spinach and stir well. Cover with a lid for a few minutes so the spinach can wilt and the other ingredients can heat through. Drink some wine.

Drop in your dollop (or two) of prepared pesto. How much you use will be up to you. Give it a good stir and see where it takes you. Then taste it and make sure it's got enough salt (only a problem if your pesto didn't have enough to begin with) and serve with grated cheese on top.

This will make a lot of pasta. Eat the leftovers for lunch the next day... or later that night when the kids are in bed. Guiltily, in a corner, sneaking glances over your shoulder. Pesto is just that good.