Last night's dinner: pasta with spinach-feta sausage
On Saturday I went back to the co-op where I'd interviewed for a job in the meat department. I don't think I got the job, because no one ever called me. I chatted very briefly with the meat department manager as he weighed out a pound of the sausage he'd bragged on at the interview: they make it in-house. I took home some turkey sausage stuffed with feta and spinach, and plans to pair it with some pasta and not much else.
Last night was a little chaotic, but mostly in good ways. The bus I take home from work broke down, resulting in a delay, and I was already grumpy because I'm having to job hunt again. Nothing like circulating my resume and cranking out a few stiff cover letters a day to assure myself that I am a no-talent hack and an embarrassment to my family.
But we also got a dishwasher last night, and I am slowly allowing the delight to seep into me, like the spring thaw melting into cold, hard soil. Not having to start dinner by washing up our breakfast and lunch dishes saved me at least half an hour. Not having to wash the dinner dishes afterward saved me at least another 45 minutes. I took that extra energy and applied myself to enjoying the process of throwing together a simple pasta dish.
For a moment, I was worried that my bad mood, coupled with having a guest, would rattle me into ruining dinner, especially since I was heading off without a recipe. I can do this with dishes I've made, or riffed on, for years, but sometimes I get overambitious and make inedible mistakes. Through semi-conscious selections and a desire to use certain ingredients in the fridge, I ended up making two separate toppings for the pasta. I rescued an eggplant I'd mistakenly thrown into my potato bin this weekend, diced it, and stewed it in some homemade marinara I had in the freezer, with a handful of parsley and basil.
In a large skillet, I sauteed red onions, then added garlic, a diced portabello mushroom, and the spinach-feta sausage. Later, when the pasta had gone into the boiling water and the eggplant was tender, I added chopped collards to the sausage and cooked them til they wilted.
I served both over whole wheat penne, and passed Parmesan and a grater at the table. There was very little left: a good sign.
Last night was a little chaotic, but mostly in good ways. The bus I take home from work broke down, resulting in a delay, and I was already grumpy because I'm having to job hunt again. Nothing like circulating my resume and cranking out a few stiff cover letters a day to assure myself that I am a no-talent hack and an embarrassment to my family.
But we also got a dishwasher last night, and I am slowly allowing the delight to seep into me, like the spring thaw melting into cold, hard soil. Not having to start dinner by washing up our breakfast and lunch dishes saved me at least half an hour. Not having to wash the dinner dishes afterward saved me at least another 45 minutes. I took that extra energy and applied myself to enjoying the process of throwing together a simple pasta dish.
For a moment, I was worried that my bad mood, coupled with having a guest, would rattle me into ruining dinner, especially since I was heading off without a recipe. I can do this with dishes I've made, or riffed on, for years, but sometimes I get overambitious and make inedible mistakes. Through semi-conscious selections and a desire to use certain ingredients in the fridge, I ended up making two separate toppings for the pasta. I rescued an eggplant I'd mistakenly thrown into my potato bin this weekend, diced it, and stewed it in some homemade marinara I had in the freezer, with a handful of parsley and basil.
In a large skillet, I sauteed red onions, then added garlic, a diced portabello mushroom, and the spinach-feta sausage. Later, when the pasta had gone into the boiling water and the eggplant was tender, I added chopped collards to the sausage and cooked them til they wilted.
I served both over whole wheat penne, and passed Parmesan and a grater at the table. There was very little left: a good sign.