I have a number of recipes in my repertoire that come to me thanks to my years of cooking at a restaurant in my hometown. Oh, people scoffed some back then, wondered why I was wasting my life there. Nope, I grew up at Don Diego's, and the skills I took from it are immensely helpful in life. Show me groceries and I will make you dinner.
TK was visiting on Saturday night. I can't rave enough about how incredible the man is and how much Conrad and I enjoyed hosting him for an all-too-short period of time. Part of me, though, was caught up in menu planning and cooking. Not a surprise. Summer time, good to sit outside (well, we did for pre-dinner snacks before rain drove us in),
something that can be eaten at room temperature if needed. Torta rustica.
I love this pie so much. I love it more the next day and the day after when it has really set up nicely. A layered pie of a spinach/bread crumb/onion/cheese mixture, roasted peppers, chicken breast, and more cheese. So good. Welcome slivers on Sunday, and again for lunch on Monday (and dinner!). I'll eat it a bit further into the week yet, and because I have it so rarely, it will be welcome.
I tossed together a very simple salad - TK was on the phone with Michael while I puttered in the kitchen, and as he wandered near I invited him to breathe in the scent of the white truffle oil. Just those two things
on our plates, then, and a leisurely hour-long stroll after dinner for the three of us.
The bunny? Don't ask.
Readers of this blog will know I'm a harsh critic of my own food. Actually, you may not know: I tend not to say too much negative on here, but it's seldom that I wax on effusively about my love for what I cooked. Saturday dinner, though? YUM!
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