There are other things I don't feel even the slightest bit guilty about. Sometimes I don't eat breakfast and just drink 3 pots of coffee instead. A good example of this is the way I blew my entire food budget for the week at the West Seattle Farmer's Market yesterday. I did something immeasurably painful and inconvenient to my back last week and it's grown progressively more irritating each day. I've been stuck in my apartment for what seems like eternity. I can't stand, sit, walk or lay down for too long, so I alternate between these things here at Terabithia and wait for people to come to me. I'm an INVALID here, people. Oh, and yes. Terabithia is the name of this wee apartment. I have to name things. It's somewhat of a compulsion for me. I've no idea where it comes from, but there it is and there it stays and everything has a name by which it is referred to.
When it came to naming my first apartment, I solicited opinions from my dear friends and from one certain sister of mine. You see, I have a very large family. Very. Large. I have one older brother in California and seven younger siblings here in the Seattle area. Five sisters and two brothers. Wonderful people. Smart, incredibly funny, wry, AWESOME people. They are my minions and I love them all. Lindsy, the sister in question, is the next in line after me in terms of age. My mother and stepfather brought her home when I was 3.5 years old and we've been a hellraising power team ever since. She is of the sassy variety, which doesn't really surprise me much. Through her teenage years and both of us moving to and from different parent's houses, we spent a lot of time together and you know....my sass rubs off a little. We've had some good times. We've done typical sisterly things like sneaking delicious rum daiquiris into her apartment swimming pool to kick back properly, indulging in manicures and drinking copious amounts of espresso while shopping for garments suitable of ladies with a hiney-shaking agenda. We've also butchered a Mariah Carey song to make a suitable ditty about hiding beer in dresser drawers and once convinced ourselves that, while sitting in a pedestrian overpass above the main hill to our neighborhood, we saw a UFO and, more importantly, it saw us and was coming to get us. No lie there, though. That sucker made a u-turn in the sky as soon as we mentioned it. I've never run home so fast in my life. I think she'd agree.
It's nice having someone not terribly far behind in age that I can ask advice of. I hope I return the favor and I quite enjoy the adventures we have. She has tastes quite different from mine in most areas of interest. Books, music, clothing, movies and leisure activities don't really match up for us all of the time, but she has my best interests at heart, so when it came to naming this little slice of apartment heaven, I enlisted her help. I sent her an email asking for ideas for the new place and approximately 3 seconds later received a reply that said only "Terabithia." Having never read Bridge to Terabithia but knowing that she loved it so, I immediately implemented the new name. She'd never suggest such a thing if it weren't suitable, and so it was. Terabithia is now home, though not quite to the homey stage. I anticipate that will come as I get to know my own tastes a bit better. I've never had the opportunity to decorate before, so I have some lovely things in mind. Things involving a vinyl tree silhouette on my wall, with these flowers dotting it and a few of these adorable guys perching on the branches here and there.
Look how I have digressed. First I am not guilty about buying vegetables and then I am naming apartments and high-fiving my sister because we're awesome. Let's get back to vegetables, hm? As I was saying, my food budget for the week is tiny. I am a poor, unemployed student. With this comes eating cheap while trying to be inventive enough to eat awesomely. As I said, I was sick of sitting around in this little home of mine and wanted to get out. The farmer's market is a scant three blocks away and takes place every weekend, year-round. I figured I'd grab some onions, garlic and maybe some pretty tomatoes and I'd make some pasta sauce on the cheap and organic tip. I took my Trader Joe's canvas shopping bag with me and before I knew it, I'd filled my ENTIRE bag with leeks, 3 kinds of garlic, tomatoes, 2 kinds of basil, some peppadews, a chili, a bottle of delicious raspberry apple cider, gorgeous onions, pattypan squash, the world's tiniest purple cabbage, a baby artichoke (cute!!!) and 12 female squash blossoms. I've never seen squash blossoms before, but Le Boyfriend has instilled in me the importance of snapping them up when I see them so that he can give me a delicious dinner experience with them. I will report back on that debacle tonight after we've eaten all of the poor darlings.
Yesterday, though, I was famished when I got home. Since I routinely skip breakfast (sorry, Honey!), I was looking at an early dinner, which is just fine with me. The basil and tomatoes were calling me. I'm terrible when it comes to eating. If I don't really want and crave something, I just won't eat. If I eat something that isn't exactly what I want, I don't enjoy it. Basically, I suck. But not when I have tomatoes and basil.
This delightful lunch-dinner (dunch? linner? DOES IT EVEN HAVE A FORMAL NAME?) took about fifteen minutes from start to finish. It was rich without being terribly guilt-inducing (this might be a total lie) and I got to use up another third of my little loaf of focaccia.
Basil parmesan pasta
1 big handful of fettucine - cooked al dente
2 cloves garlic, smashed and chopped
1/6 sweet onion, roughly chopped
1/2 T unsalted butter
3 T chicken or veggie stock
1/4 cup heavy cream
1 big handful of basil, rinsed and chopped
1 adorable little pattypan squash, rinsed and sliced thinly
8 tiny heriloom tomatoes, rinsed and sliced in half
1 T crumbled parmesan
coarse salt
white pepper
olive oil
Heat the oven to broil, drizzle a bit of olive oil into a baking pan and place the tomato and squash slices in, then flip so that both sides are covered with a bit of oil. Sprinkle with coarse salt and a bit of pepper, then place under the broiler.
In a large pan, melt the butter over medium-high heat, then add the garlic and onion. Cook for one minute and reduce heat to medium. Add the basil and let cook for about a minute, then add the stock and the heavy cream. It will begin to bubble and will then reduce a bit to make a thicker sauce. Start to get EVEN MORE HUNGRY.
By now, the tomatoes and squash should be cooked through and maybe have a tinge of color around the edges. I like mine to be a bit browned, but that is just preference. 2 minutes under the broiler would probably be enough for anyone that liked them a bit less done. After this, it's just a matter of tossing everything together and plating it.
I loved this pasta because the basil was prominent but not overwhelming. Little hints of the garlic and onion flavored the cream sauce but they didn't stand at the front of it. The tomatoes were sweet, so hitting them with some salt (which I didn't add anywhere else) seemed to bring that out even more. They had a lovely balance of sweetness and acidity and I am convinced that there MUST be a way for me to grow tiny baby tomatoes year round in my apartment so that I never have to be without this little taste of summer again.
AND!!! Just to show that even when I am lazy, I am still somewhat creative, I give you today's lunch:
Bonus Maya shot:
Who needs tomato sauce when you have garlic mashed potatoes hanging out in your fridge? Not us. Not any of us, for we are a forward-thinking, carbohydrate loving tribe. Aren't we? I think so.
No comments:
Post a Comment