Did I cook last week? I know that you have been dying to know.
Well yes I did, and although it did not go entirely smoothly, the end result was very tasty. Even if dinner was served a day late.
I planned to cook black bean soup from one of my favourite recipes that I clipped from the newspaper about a zillion years ago. You can find the recipe here. It’s a good one.
I chose the recipe last weekend, made my shopping list, and bought all of the ingredients except for the cilantro, which I decided to get fresh on Thursday. On Thursday, I started cooking as soon as I got home from work, but I got stuck almost immediately.
“Where’s the bacon?” I called to Tony who was sitting with his laptop in the living room – my usual spot during dinner prep time.
“Should be there,” he answered.
I searched the fridge and then I searched it again. It was nowhere.
“Maybe it got put away in the freezer with the rest of the meat,” Tony said. He went downstairs to check and came back with a rock hard package of frozen bacon. “You can just chop it up the way it is,” he told me most helpfully.
“Ummmm, you can do that, since you were the one who froze the bacon,” I replied, most cheerfully of course.
Tony was happy to help because it gave him the chance to use one of his favourite kitchen tools: our ulu knives. These were a gift from my brother Paul and Tamara last Christmas, and they brought them to us from Cambridge Bay Nunavut where they are living for a couple of years. (Hi Paul and Tamara! Happy Nunavursary!)
| Perfcect for skinning and cleaning animals, cutting a child’s hair, cutting food and, if necessary,
trimming blocks of snow and ice used to build an igloo (from Wikipedia). Plus frozen bacon.
Having Tony help me chop the bacon is not cheating on my cooking night, because he is the one who froze the bacon in the first place. But I may have mentioned that already.
All right, back on track with just a bit of delay.
But I forgot how long it took to do all of the chopping. Onion, carrots, celery, tomato, cilantro. Shoot, I am not very quick at this.
To make a long story a little shorter, it took me until almost 7pm to finish assembling and cooking the soup. In the meantime, Tony had microwaved some leftover pasta for the girls because our normal dinner time is 5:30 and I was running just a titch late. (Thanks Tony, I forgive you for freezing the bacon).
Never mind, the soup will cool over night and then it will be easier to blend, and then we are all set for dinner on Friday night. Voila!
Then I realized that the girls would be sleeping over at their grandparents for two nights in a row, leaving us with an awful lot of soup to eat all on our own. So half went into the freezer for another day, and Tony and I enjoyed delicious soup for dinner all on our own on Friday night.
A qualified success I would say.
And yes it was yummy.
|It tastes A LOT better than it looks. Honest.|
I always feel sad on Labour Day weekend. I never wanted to go back to school when I was a kid, and this weekend still prompts some feelings of dread and anxiety within me. Thank goodness both my girls are happy to go back. A few new outfits and some fresh new school supplies, and they are all ready and excited about it too. It makes it a lot easier for me knowing that they don’t have that sick feeling in their stomachs that I always used to have when heading back to school after a nice long summer vacation.
The only thing that I have to manage with them is that their school doesn’t tell us which class they will be in until the very first day of school. It is so difficult when you are in the school yard and you look at the list and have to tell them that no they didn’t get the teacher they wanted, and on top of that their closest friends aren’t in their class either. OK kiss goodbye! Enjoy your day! See you after school!
See? That bites.
I understand why the school does it, really I do. The parents do become highly involved in managing the class lists if given an opportunity, but when you have an anxious child and you can’t prepare them for what to expect on the first day, it makes it extra hard. I am crossing my fingers for the right class and some good friends in both of my daughters’ classes this year, and I wish you all the same too.
The reason why the girls were sleeping away for two nights this weekend was so that Tony and I could celebrate our fifteenth wedding anniversary. I haven’t a clue how fifteen years has passed already, and how we have become a couple with a house, car, kids, careers and a whole other pile of responsibilities. We were both still grad students when we got married, barely able to afford our rent for goodness’ sake.
Here is a picture then:
|Cute young couple!|
And here is a picture now:
|A little older and greyer, but still looking pretty good!|
Happy Anniversary Sweet Tony. I love you.