A New Low

I'm going to do something I said I'd never do. I'm going to stoop so low I may even lose a few of you to better and more interesting blogs. Yes, I am going to blog about....my dinner. It's over now. I have finished my dinner and am now basking in the after-dinner glow. In fact, I just finished eating several bites of Jay's Dreyer's cookie dough ice cream right out of the container. I am not normally an ice cream person so the ice cream is Jay's. But, in my post-dinner joy, I dug around in his ice cream and ate the chunks of cookie dough out of the regular vanilla surrounding them. He's going to be pissed. But, back to the dinner.

Jay had Boy Scouts tonight and he ate dinner there. That left me on my own. I used to make this great pasta and I had not made it for ages. It's very simple but also filling and hot and yummy. So, I started by cooking up some whole wheat angle hair. While that was cooking, I put about a quarter cup of olive oil in a sauce pan, pressed about four cloves of garlic in there and put it to simmer. I had two brilliantly red, ripe tomatoes so I cut them up into the oil and garlic, added a bit of fresh basil and fresh parsley. I let it all simmer together for 20 minutes or so. Drained the pasta and added the pasta to the saucepan with the sauce. I had some real Parmigiano Reggiano that I grated all over the top. Then...THEN, I opened a half bottle of Duckhorn Merlot, 2002. O.M.G. I sat in my father's recliner and watched the news while eating. Jay sat in the kitchen doing his homework. After I sat down and placed my wine next to me on the table and looked down at my beautiful pasta, I must have laughed because Jay hollered over, "What are you laughing about?" and I realized I was giddy about my food. I was so enamored by my dinner that I took a picture of it.

After having been on both sides of the stick, so to speak, I never take this shit for granted.

Now, I am going to go read Jay a chapter out of By The Banks of Plum Creek, clean up the kitchen, and drink my second, and final glass of Duckhorn. And next time, I'll try and have something a bit more interesting to write about.

We must not allow the clock and the calendar to blind us to the fact that each moment of life is a miracle and mystery.
--H. G. Wells