Tap, tap. Cough. Hello? Anyone out there?
Apologies, dear readers, for my prolonged absence, though I imagine to some of you I'm starting to sound like a broken record. There was a bachelorette party and a crazy work week, yes, and then a few days when cooking seemed to be nothing but an afterthought and a busy weekend in which we went from Manhattan to the Bronx and back. Before I could say "boo", I realized I'd only blogged twice in two weeks.
Sometimes, I guess, you just need to take a break. And it felt pretty good to be out in the world, communing with the baby animals, eating pasta on Arthur Avenue, celebrating Becca's 30th birthday, and doing some serious bargain jewelry shopping with my girlfriends on Sunday. The computer could wait.
Besides, have I mentioned the fact that I will be bikini-clad in less than two weeks? If there's any reason to stop cooking (and writing about it), there's one right there.
I kid, of course. But it's true that cooking newspaper recipes isn't always the way to a hot body, even if you are sharing your meals with one very tall man who can eat his body weight in pasta on most days. I've had to choose carefully. So carefully, in fact, that I found myself eating bitter cornmeal mush for dinner tonight.
Well. I exaggerate maybe a bit. It wasn't all that bad. Creamy polenta flecked with herbs (not minced small enough by yours truly, the lazy git), then dyed a reddish color from sauteed radicchio and sweetened with julienned fennel. Oh sure, it sounds pretty darn good. But really? It was forgettable. A squeeze of lemon juice and a double portion of grated Parmigiano made it better, and a few good sprinklings of flaky salt helped it along as well. But on the whole? I think we should just agree to forget about this one entirely.
In lieu of a recipe, let's have a look at these silly monkeys instead.
I think I'd have liked to take this one home with me.