Happy anniversary! I can't believe it's been five years since we ate that amazing barbecue and that cake decorated with fruit and pearls at your wedding. Count on me to remember little else but the food. Okay, I do also remember how beautiful you looked in your dress, and how dashing B looked as he took your hand and walked you back down the aisle.
Who would have known then that five years later you'd be writing your sister-in-law about your huge breasts being personified by your husband as strange, possibly demonic creatures with minds of their own? Certainly not I. But now you know how I feel, carrying those damned heavy creatures around all day.
But you probably don't want to hear about that as much as you want to hear about what I cooked for dinner last night. Richmond has a known diagnosis of bipolar weather disorder, so it was of little surprise when the city's too-warm autumn mania abruptly gave way this week to a deep, wintry depressive episode.
It's been in the 40s and dreary for almost an entire week now, and in addition to Febreeze-ing my musty sweaters and (finally) submitting my Fulbright application, this weekend I've been cozying up a lot to J and the cat. They're both easy to be around, enjoy couch-sitting, like it when I feed them, and are clumsy but effective foot-warmers.
As you can see, Miss Peanut is fattening herself up for Thanksgiving. Don't her haunches look like turkey legs? Contrary to Peanut, I wanted to eat something light but filling, and I wanted to get rid of the arugula (arugula glut!) and tomatoes in our fridge that were on their last legs. Everyday Italian was the perfect go-to cookbook: Giada de Laurentiis's arugula pesto was yummy both for bread-dipping and when tossed with angel hair pasta and roasted tomatoes.
For pesto:
2 cups fresh arugula
2 garlic cloves
1/2 c. olive oil
1/2 c. freshly grated Parmesan cheese
salt and pepper
For roasted tomatoes:
plum tomatoes, cut in half
olive oil
salt
Heat oven to 350 F. Cover a cookie sheet with foil. Toss tomatoes on cookie sheet with a few grounds of sea salt and a couple of glugs of olive oil, then place in oven for 40-60 minutes. Check on tomatoes every now and again as they might burn. Tomatoes are done when they're kind of shriveled up looking.
While tomatoes are roasting, blend arugula and garlic in a food processor until finely chopped. Add olive oil while pulsing until well blended. Transfer the pesto to a large bowl, and make your husband grate the parmesan cheese into it. Add salt and pepper to taste, and stir.
Follow the directions to make the pasta of your choice. Drain, then toss hot pasta into bowl of pesto until evenly coated. Plate pasta, then top with 4-6 roasted tomatoes and freshly grated parmesan cheese. Twirl on fork. Eat. Repeat.
Capellini with Arugula Pesto and Roasted Tomatoes (adapted from Everyday Italian by Giada de Laurentiis)
For pesto:
2 cups fresh arugula
2 garlic cloves
1/2 c. olive oil
1/2 c. freshly grated Parmesan cheese
salt and pepper
For roasted tomatoes:
plum tomatoes, cut in half
olive oil
salt
Heat oven to 350 F. Cover a cookie sheet with foil. Toss tomatoes on cookie sheet with a few grounds of sea salt and a couple of glugs of olive oil, then place in oven for 40-60 minutes. Check on tomatoes every now and again as they might burn. Tomatoes are done when they're kind of shriveled up looking.
While tomatoes are roasting, blend arugula and garlic in a food processor until finely chopped. Add olive oil while pulsing until well blended. Transfer the pesto to a large bowl, and make your husband grate the parmesan cheese into it. Add salt and pepper to taste, and stir.
Follow the directions to make the pasta of your choice. Drain, then toss hot pasta into bowl of pesto until evenly coated. Plate pasta, then top with 4-6 roasted tomatoes and freshly grated parmesan cheese. Twirl on fork. Eat. Repeat.
It didn't hurt to have snacks to nibble on while we waited for the tomatoes to roast:
All in all, it was a lovely, quiet evening, in stark contrast to this afternoon's loud neighbors freaking out about whatever football game they're watching. To answer your questions about the Fulbright: I don't know. I guess I feel something approximating relief, though that's not quite right either. Right before I clicked the all-powerful "Submit Application" button, I didn't take a deep breath, pray, or cross my fingers. I just got up afterwards and poured myself another cup of coffee.
I've decided since I don't hear anything until January 31st that either I will a) drive myself crazy worrying about it incessantly (a likely possibility, since I'm a masochist) or b) forget I ever applied until January 31st, at which time I will either be happily or unhappily surprised by an email besides the usual spam in my inbox.
Either way, I'm excited about seeing you in Philly soon - one of J's co-workers used to live there, and she's putting together a list for us of restaurants to visit. We'll take lots of food-gasmic pictures and coo about baby clothes!
Hope y'all had a good rest of the weekend - how did you make that whipped cream look so purty?
Love,
Tia F.
I've decided since I don't hear anything until January 31st that either I will a) drive myself crazy worrying about it incessantly (a likely possibility, since I'm a masochist) or b) forget I ever applied until January 31st, at which time I will either be happily or unhappily surprised by an email besides the usual spam in my inbox.
Either way, I'm excited about seeing you in Philly soon - one of J's co-workers used to live there, and she's putting together a list for us of restaurants to visit. We'll take lots of food-gasmic pictures and coo about baby clothes!
Hope y'all had a good rest of the weekend - how did you make that whipped cream look so purty?
Love,
Tia F.
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