So the last, oh, two months haven't involved a lot of cooking for me. And what cooking does ensue usually involves frozen, albeit organic, vegetables and pasta. Or rice. But pasta cooks faster, so, you know. . . usually pasta.
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In fact, last night I considered it an achievement beyond the greatest realms of possibility that I actually cooked a full, healthy, delicious meal. This meal was, as one of my friends puts it, "what the rest of the world eats every day." Rice and beans.
So why was it fancy? Because I busted out the cast iron skillet to heat up the canned beans, that's why. AND I sprinkled them with cumin and chili powder. Or maybe it was the other red spice in my cabinet, paprika. I'm not sure, because a long time ago I forgot to label the jars, thinking it would be really easy to tell what was what. I'm a food writer, after all. Not the case.
And then I made guacamole, meaning I chopped up one avocado and poured in some jarred salsa. And there might have been some pre-cut lettuce involved. But still, it was the fanciest homemade meal we've had in a while, and I plated it up on our beautiful new crisp white plates and we enjoyed it immensely.
All this to say that in a month, we'll be married, and then we won't have any crazy stuff to take care of and all we will have to do is sit around on our new front porch and drink wine in adirondack chairs.
And then I can cook. With my husband.
That's got a pretty nice ring to it, doesn't it?