For me, as for many of you out there, I assume, food is so much more than breakfast, lunch, dinner and the occasional snack. I live for discovering new recipes, for creating in the kitchen, for plating something new and exciting that looks beautiful and has the Country Boy, once again, saying things like, “It’s like Christmas every day here.”
I’m lucky that the Country Boy and I were friends before we started dating, that we worked at Paziols together and got to know one another in very close quarters. I knew that he has a penchant for listening to the same song on repeat and eating entire tubs of Haagen Daz vanilla ice cream. He knows that I drink coffee all day long–hot or cold, depending on the season. We both know that the other has a short fuse, but while he walks his off, he has slowly come to understand that mine is dissolved over medium-high heat in a skillet of caramelized onions. He knows, but that doesn’t mean he thinks I’m any less odd.
“Doesn’t it make you ill to look at pictures of food all day?” he asks as he watches me browsing your blogs. I frown and shake my head. Raised in a house where we were given children’s cookbooks with the same frequency as picture books, where every dinner was beautiful, no matter how simple, I never thought that I would be any other way. Still, TCB sometimes sees me scrambling in the kitchen at 8:30 at night after a long day and says, “You don’t have to make such a meal every day.”
I know he means well–he’s suggested on more than one occasion that I cook up some spaghetti, mix it with jarred sauce and call it a day. I don’t know whether to take offense or not, and I consider being a brooding girl about it for about two seconds before my directness (Cannes friends will remember my penchant for being uncompromisingly and sometimes annoyingly blunt) kicks in.
“If you want me to make pasta every night, let me know,” I finally say, and TCB, in that way only he has, shakes his head insistently.
“No, no, no,” he says. “I just don’t want you to think you have to.”
Funny, for me cooking has never been an obligation. I love to stand over my cutting board, to manage multiple pots simmering at once, to add herbs to taste, to rummage through the fridge to see what odds and ends I have to use up, a creative challenge every evening. I look forward to the moment when I leave my computer for my time over the stovetop, to bringing ingredients together until everything is just right.
TCB may never understand. I see his eyes grow big in his head whenever I place something new before him. “You always have such great ideas,” he says, as he watches me throw this noodle dish together for lunch.
It’s like anything that comes naturally: I’ll always stare with wonder as he dismantles heating elements, electrical appliances and plumbing setups with ease, putting them back together in a much better way than when they started, and he’ll always look at me, bug-eyed, as I scan my rack of spices, selecting one or two to make the flavors of whatever’s slowly simmering pop. It’s something I learned through trial and error–I remember when it wasn’t so easy. But TCB didn’t know me then; it’s fun to pretend, as I slide a colorful dish of noodles and wilted cabbage, carefully accentuated with an Asian dressing, that I’ve always cooked like this.
Sesame Noodles with Vegetables
(Note: I change this up fairly frequently, with different sources of protein or different vegetables. The only thing that always stays the same is the dressing. Feel free to make this your own!)
150 g. whole wheat spaghetti
1 tsp. canola oil
1 onion, minced
1 chicken breast, diced into chunks (optional)
2 large handfuls shredded vegetables (I use a cole slaw mix with white cabbage, carrot and celery, and a separate bag of shredded red cabbage)
1 clove garlic, minced
2 eggs (optional: I usually use chicken OR eggs)
1 tsp. sesame oil
2 tsp. soy sauce
2 tsp. brown sugar
juice of 1/2 lime
1 tbsp. toasted sesame seeds
Sriracha sauce, for serving (optional)
Bring a pot of salted water to a boil.
Heat the oil in a large, heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Cook the onion until soft and slightly browned, 4-5 minutes. Add the chicken (if using) and brown on all sides.
Cook the spaghetti in the boiling water 6-7 minutes, or according to package directions.
Add the vegetables and garlic to the skillet with the onion and chicken and cook, stirring frequently, until the pasta has finished cooking and the vegetables are soft.
Meanwhile, mix the sesame oil, soy sauce, brown sugar and lime juice in a small bowl with a fork.
Reserve a cup of the pasta water and drain the spaghetti thoroughly. Add the spaghetti and sauce to the skillet and toss to combine. If using eggs, add them now and stir until cooked. Add pasta water to thin out the sauce a bit. Mix in the sesame seeds and toss to coat.
That looks absolutely delicious, especially on a cold snowy day like today. I like what you said about trying new things. It’s so easy to get in a rut with food. Well, this is definitely something new for me so plan to try it. Thank you very much!
Thai Recipe Downloads
Gorgeous colors! I have a go-to stir-fry sauce, which usually gets served over rice, and doesn’t get made nearly often enough.
tell him to be careful–i married a great cook and gained 100 pounds! Gourmet=good; gourmand=bad….
Box of pasta + jar o’ sauce = meal I have the patience to prepare.
Much props. 🙂