October 8, 2012
Maybe it’s the weather. I keep telling myself that I’m looking forward to actually feeling a change in seasons instead of just watching them go by on the calendar, but the truth is that even in this 60° weather, I don’t want to get out of bed in the morning. I burrito myself in the covers and try to forget that in a couple of months, I am going to have to go to bed in socks and sweats and possibly a second blanket.
And so, braising. Hours of oven on-time to heat the apartment more than our temperamental heater can. Hours of bubbling braising liquid to slowly envelop the apartment in red wine scent. And, finally, after hours, a hearty, body-filling and fall-apart tender dinner of braised short ribs and creamy polenta, curled up with the gentleman on the couch. Possibly more red wine.
August 11, 2012
Despite living in what feels like the restaurant capital of the world, Tim and I eat dinner at home most nights. I usually give him a choice between two or three things I’m thinking of making, I start cooking when he gets home from work, then we eat together in front of the TV with a glass of rosé or iced tea and an episode of Game of Thrones or, um, Futurama.
I think I like these nights best. Sure, I love tasting what the chefs have to dish out at fancy bistros, but what I like better is feeding people I love. Cuddling on the comfy couch with something hot and delicious, knowing I’m doing that most basic of things, providing sustenance for my loved one, feels intensely fulfilling.