Gluttony is a periodic deadly sin I dabble in. Now that the fiance’ is working again, he brought home his first paycheck and there’s a little extra money laying around. As soon as he left the house, I hit project mode. All of the cookbooks got dragged into the living room and I furiously started flipping through, jotting down ingredients and possible menus. He had requested simple spaghetti and meat sauce for dinner tonight, so I scooped up the basics. And then I started thinking ahead.
His mom emailed the recipe for Tomato Soup Pie (a home cooked favorite of his). I dragged out the New York Times recipe for Crusty Macaroni and Cheese that always hits the spot on a cold day. The Paula Deen cookbooks came out for banana bread and peach cobbler. A gourmet recipe from epicurious for corn cakes. Betty Crocker cookbook recipes for sausage and rice casserole and chicken sour cream bake. I lugged home enough groceries from the store to feed an army and made plans to cook lots and freeze it.
By the time I got home from the store I was dizzy from hunger and from carrying it all four blocks. And I lost a little of my momentum. But I have food in the house. Real, not prepackaged food. And if I can turn off The Devil Wears Prada (which I’ve watched 1,000 times), I may actually get the spaghetti finished before he comes home. With a big salad and garlic bread.
I spent more than I should have on all the ingredients. We haven’t quite caught up on all the bills yet- things are still tight in the money department. But, we can eat real food for a couple of weeks now and I suspect we’ll all be a little less grouchy around these parts if we have full warm stomachs.
It’s going to be 9 degrees tomorrow. And I will be in my steamy kitchen stirring and baking and in my fuzzy slippers. Now that’s a Sunday to die for.