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Some people knit or fold laundry while binge-watching TV. Barbara Lynch rolls strozzapreti, a short twisted pasta, while catching up on the FX show The Americans. “The name means ‘priest strangler’—really!” the acclaimed Boston chef says of the ropey pasta, before tucking a baggie full of it back in the freezer and pulling out a pig bladder (the word bladder written on it in Sharpie) in preparation for some later experimentation. The fridge in Lynch’s Gloucester home holds few other surprises; she notes multiple bottles of ketchup, left over from too many summer houseguests, and Cain’s mayonnaise, a staple of her youth and
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