Day Nine: Dinner Was Made of Awesome

I'm a food writing addict. I have a large collection of cookbooks, and one of equal size of essays/histories. Cooking, though, is a sometime habit for me. I love to make big, elaborate meals for special occasions, or just as a pleasant way to pass a Saturday. But most of the time I'd rather read than cook.

(John Thorne, for example.)

This habit is finally coming in handy--since I'm forced to drop all the rich food I like to make, and all the variety of take-out ethnic food I like to buy, and instead rely on bits of ideas picked up from all over. Last night, we had salmon with a mustard and lemon juice glaze, with whole wheat pasta and a forgettable veg. It was delicious hot for dinner, but nothing special today at lunch. In fact, with the slimy squash veg, it was kinda gross.

(Thomas Keller would have sneered.)

Tonight's meal was a keeper, though, and should be great leftover. Sauce of garlic, lots of fresh spinach (chopped roughly and wilted with the garlic; I also rub the pan with an olive-oil moistened towel first to prevent sticking), two small cans of chopped tomatoes, and some pepper. Then add water-canned tuna, and toss with whole wheat pasta. Some olive oil would have gone a long way to add richness and smooth out the texture, but it was hearty and very edible.

(If you've never read "I Was Really Very Hungry," get your hands on a copy soonest.
Her translation of The Physiology of Taste is also brilliant and great fun, including the footnotes.)

I say it was made of awesome no so much because it was the best thing I've ever eaten or very original, but because it was the first successful whole meal I've managed (one out of six!). Not a random collection of elements, or something that was obviously missing several important ingredients.

Now, on to making breakfast more cohesive than it's been. I'm planning to re-read this article by Mark Bittman. I might not end up using any recipes from him, but I like the way he thinks.

P.S. Should this be an end-of-PCP goal? I've hiked most pieces of the trail before and found that 5 km straight up turned my legs into jelly, so that 1.5 km straight down was perilous. What if that was at the end of a 40 km endurance test?