March 31, 2010
Fettucine with Lamb Ragù and Ricotta
We’ve been living in our house for just shy of two years now. Having been foreclosed on and neglected for over a year, it was (and still is) in disrepair. It’s our 75 year old baby. It demands lots of love and attention and patience and savings. It’s been the cause of many moments of bickering (we’re both relatively new to this home improvement gig and, thus, feel entitled to our own very strong opinions), hours of waiting for paint to dry, and too many trips to Home Depot ten minutes before closing. It’s the reason I can recite more of Behr’s color palate than I wish to admit, carry paint swatches around in my purse, and drive Kyle crazy with my shade, tone and hue indecisiveness. Me: But don’t you think Rocky Mountain Sky is a bit more grey than Himalayan Mist and would work best in the master? Kyle: Sure sounds good, honey (read: I don’t really give a damn, they’re both mountains to me. Please just pick one). This baby of ours is the reason I’ve cried at three o’clock in the morning when the bathroom doorknob jams, shown up to work with primer and Cliff Rock in my hair, and slept with lights on when Kyle’s away because of weird nighttime creaks. But I wouldn’t take back a single sleepless night or trade a single second we’ve spent tending to this house for anything. Because at the end of the day, this house is our home regardless of all the trim that needs painted or the basement that needs waterproofing or the garage that needs rebuilt. I really love this place, our home.
This past weekend we were hit with a bout of “get’er done”. After a couple months of housework slacking (hey, it was winter after all), we were ready once again to don paint splattered pants and ball caps, blast Ok Go and cross a few more chores off the (exhaustively long) to-do list. Working in separate corners of the house (we’ve discovered this works best for keeping unnecessary opinions to ourselves) we taped, primed, painted, caulked, wired and replaced. On Sunday evening, after calling it a day, we were reminded of the “housework aches”, the stiff lower back, the throbbing calves, the sore neck. Proof that we’d put in some solid hours of real gosh darn work and were deserving of a big steaming bowl of pasta (and glass of red wine). You know I’m excited about a recipe if I choose to cook after a long day of inhaling paint fumes. This did not disappoint.
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March 11, 2010
Linguine with White Clam Sauce
People who know us well can attest that we are homebodies. As much as we love a night out on the town, either as a couple or among friends, nothing beats the comforts of our kitchen, our dining table, our couch. A reservation chez nous means casual attire (read: my hair is up, makeup is off, sweats are on), cheap entertainment a la Netflix, a bottle of wine and comfort food. This clam linguine is our default comfort food. I make it mid-week when nothing else sounds good, on Sunday evenings when grocery shopping didn’t fit into the weekend schedule and I’m left to forage through the pantry, or at the end of a long week when I just don’t have the energy to really cook (I could probably make this blind-folded, that’s how often it’s eaten around here). Such was the case a couple Fridays back when I couldn’t refuse a date night at home. While Kyle determined which of the Academy Awards Best Picture hopefuls to watch first, I made linguine with white clam sauce (or clam linguine, as we call it) while donning an over-sized hoodie, sporting a ponytail and armed with a hefty pour of Chardonnay. Comfort at its finest. My kind of Friday night.
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February 13, 2010
Chicken Baked with Lentils
Oh, lentils. We adore them around here. And while they usually end up in soups, I love them in dishes like this one where they really have a presence. They aren’t pushed aside by chunks of carrots or stewed to a creamy, less defined consistency. No, here you know you’re eating lentils. And using green lentils ensures they maintain their shape and bite. They’ve cozied with the likes of some major flavor players, including pancetta, radicchio, cumin and fresh sage. Yet the end result is mild, and I don’t mean bland or nondescript. Just a perfect marriage of good things. I didn’t know what to expect from this combination of ingredients, though I thought one or the other might shine a little brighter, yell a little louder. But no, nobody tried to shout the loudest or outshine the others. All of the flavors played as one. A true team effort.
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January 29, 2010
Cuban Black Beans and Rice
About one night a week I have the place to myself while the Mister is off partaking in some extracurriculars. If you agree to keep a secret then I’ll divulge that I look forward to my date with an empty house once a week. Because, let’s face it, sometimes I don’t want him crashing my aerobic dance party, mocking my turbo jam session, or throwing off my Wii Fit ultimate hoola hoop groove. Sometimes I want to watch back to back episodes of Propery Virgins or House Hunters, even if I’ve already seen them, while flipping back and forth to Real Housewives or Project Runway. Sometimes I just want peace and quiet. No TV. No talking. Just staring at walls. (Ok, I agree, that last point is a little weird, but after a long day don’t you sometimes want nothing more than to stare at walls?) And sometimes, I just want beans and rice for dinner without the pouting.
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January 22, 2010
Chicken Sausage with White Beans and Sage
I agree that at first glance the looks of this dish are nothing to write home about. It’s so…so…blah looking. Blah looking and brown. Blah looking and beige. Couldn’t I have stuck a sprig of sage leaves in there somewhere? I admit I considered it. I also admit I considered doing away with this whole post. But then I came to my senses because this was good and I wanted to share it with you. It’s one of those recipes that surprises you after you’ve read the ingredient list and feared it lacked some wow or zing or oh la la la. But then it emerges from the oven smelling of sage and toasted breadcrumbs and tasting of home and you are grateful for have given it a chance.
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