^^^ who else lovvvvvvvvvvvvves that song?
My life is absurdly nice at the moment.
Imagine, if you will, returning from the gym already experiencing that post-workout afterglow (the “Mary Poppins effect”, a certain someone I know dubs it). Then you come home and your kitchen has been swept, your cat has been fed, and there is Malbec, and jazz, and someone you adore making you your favorite pasta.
Rewinding to Saturday night—well actually, rewinding to Friday night. Steve had a *vision*, which involved butter and pine nuts and garlic and grapes and risotto and I assure you it was luscious.
We were in recovery mode from a long work week. There are no pictures. I send my regrets.
So Saturday was my turn for a vision.
I craved baked tofu:
I just pressed it, sliced it, SLATHERED it in Trader Joe’s tomato chutney (an ingredient over which I’ve been obsessing lately. Like, eating it with a spoon obsessing), and baked it hottish until crisping at the edges.
Then there was an abundance of spinach salvaged from work (astonishingly, our 8-10 year old children *love* salad but there is just TOO MUCH SPINACH).
I set out to make my faaaaaaaaaaaavorite spinach dish from an actual cookbook- The 5 in 10 Cookbook- which utilizes ten minute recipes with five ingredients or less.
You throw dry mustard, soy sauce, lemon juice, and olive oil in a pan and let it get hot and bothered:
Then wilt in scads of spinach:
So simple, so luscious.
Finally, rounded out with sweet potatoes. Baked looooooooooooong and sloooooooooooooooooooow.
I kind of think that there is a special section of my heart carved out, just for sweet potatoes. And I pride myself that before Steve met me, his experience with the sweet potato’s orangey goodness was limited to ghastly encounters with marshmallow-topped Thanksgiving scariness. Fortunately, I have him converted.
Thus, two of these were for him :D
I live for sweet potato sap.
Well, actually, I live for candlelit dinners. Staring at somebody and talking about everything you’re going to do with your lives.
And now we return to Sunday. And the red wine…
[sidebar: we received this as a gift at our Christmas party. Attached to it was a lovely note… written to the people who gave it to us. Their regift was my gift indeed. All Malbec is good but this was like… really good. I know, Ileana. Your descriptions are incredible. Apply to Wine Connoisseur magazine.]
…and the pasta and the jazz
[sidebar again: at the gym I actually ran into an old friend who is an absurdly talented singer. She does jazz like Ella Fitzgerald or something. She has a 1920s voice. She’s a total freak. And you should buy her CD cause I did. Website here.]
Steve was offering to buy groceries but I was reluctant since he is basically carbon neutral these days and the amount of time that entails him walking in the cold makes my heart hurt.
Plus then he mentioned something about artichokes and I went “!!! Artichoke and Walnut Fettucini with Toasted Breadcrumbs”! Since basically my two favorite things to eat are artichokes and pasta it is no real surprise that this is one of my favorite dishes but I sometimes forget to make it as often as I should (i.e. every other day).
Lo and behold, there was a can of Trader Joe’s pristine artichoke hearts in my cupboard. So Steve catered to the anal-retentive qualities of my kitchen and followed a recipe (with my occasionally reappearing after my post gym shower and grooming to offer such helpful tips as “Use two TEASPOONS of oil, not TABLESPOONS!” because I am obNOXious).
Olive oily blissful breadcrumbs and parsley lemon walnut artichoke pesto were put on pasta…
And more wine and talking and laughing and music and planning and grinning like idiots.