On Sunday I posted about cooking and the joy it brought me.
I made a pot roast with mashed potatoes and licked the bowl.
I love it when I make something I think is delish. And I’m not shy about saying it. Hubs and I will sit down to a meal and I will say, “This…..this is amazing.”
I get a lot of my recipes from the pioneer woman, for her love of butter, her need to fry and her love to cook for her Marlboro Man.
Hubs did fix the dryer the other day.
And I do find that sexy. Maybe I will start calling him my Marlboro Man.
Back to cooking.
Sunday I made a pot roast, cooked in bacon and it was lovely.
Monday morning I heard another study about red meat, processed meat and cancer, and I thought Hubs must think I’m trying to kill him….which is not true because he fixes dryers…and he does other things which I won’t go into because he’s my Marlboro Man.
Today I made a bolognese from the pot roast leftovers made in bacon. And thought again about my love to cook.
I have ended relationships over my need to cook.
I was dating a man and after a meal he said, “Can’t we just have spaghetti?”
And so I made spaghetti with a fabulous Puttanesca Sauce.
Puttansesca…..oh my love….tomatoes, olives, capers, anchovies…..is there anything more amazing?
SOOOOO yummy. But if you are expecting Ragu and you get Puttanseca, the difference can be shocking. AMAZING, but shocking.
Somewhere between Puttanesca and Ragu, we broke up.
Tonight as I was mixing cream into the Bolognese that came from a bacon-infused pot-roast, I thought about how lucky I was that Hubs didn’t come into the kitchen and suggest we have Ragu.
I licked the bowl…it was THAT good.
And it was one of the things this week that brought me joy.
And that’s the thing about joy….it is not huge or outstanding. It is tiny, subtle and significant.
And wrapped in bacon.