So according to TMJ4 Meteorologist Scott Steele, winter is not quite ready to relinquish its hold on us just yet. More snow is coming our way this afternoon and overnight, which means a little more shoveling, bundling, slippery roads and, when it comes to dinner time, more cozy comfort food.
Let me tell you, the peanut gallery will be chiming in later on this afternoon when they discover what we’re having for dinner tonight. It’ll go something like this: “OMG Mom, whatever we’ve done, we’re sorry! Is it our bath towels? We promise to hang them up next time! We have no idea who left candy wrappers in the familyroom again! I didn’t wear your good shoes out in the mud, I swear! Please Mom! Don’t make us eat tuna and shells, we promise to be good!”
One of my New Year’s resolutions was to cut out cocktails during the week. But because I am the master self-enabler — and also really, really good at justifying just about anything — I make exceptions when it comes to adding cocktail ingredients to food. Case in point: Penne ala Vodka.
I’m already seeking out ideas for next Halloween, so I’d love to know: what was the best costume you saw this past weekend? I saw a lot of good ones, but my personal favorites were (in order of creativity): a psychotic ballerina (aka, The Black Swan), a hilarious husband /wife punk rocker duo, and a pair of Angry Birds. I also have to “credit” my friend Liz who dressed in a toga and laurel wreath and walked around all night tossing fake paper money all over the place. Can you guess what she was?
I clipped this recipe back in September because its headline caught me: “FAVORITE 20-MINUTE RECIPE #7” is what it said, just above the recipe title. Color me happy, I thought. Who couldn’t use a 20 minute recipe?
Before I begin today, I would just like to preface this post with a brief apology. While I consider myself to be somewhat of a foodie, and I try my best to maintain a modicum of culinary glamour (cough) in my daily life, today’s recipe is not in any way, shape or form haute cuisine, or dinner party fare. Just so we’re clear.
And I’m sorry. Because by now I know you surely must count on me for such gastronomic (ahem) elegance … don’t you?!