Many things about me have changed over the years that I've been writing this blog. My interest in wearing high heels, for example. My waist size. My willingness to stay awake past the hour of 9PM.
One thing that has never, ever, ever changed - the tenet to which I have held steadfast, in vocal and furious opposition to any and all attempts to sway me:
I've been posting recipes to the Internet for nearly ten years. And the fact that I have never posted the one recipe I make more than any other - I literally make it once a week at minimum - is...weird, to say the least. But what happens is that every time I make it and think, "Oh, I should take some shots and post about this!" I figure come on, suuuurely I already have, and so then I just go ahead and eat it.
Except last night I did a quick search on my site while I was stirring the sauce, and: nope. I've never posted it. (Why it took me this many years to "do a quick search while stirring the sauce" is a question I cannot answer for you.)
This recipe is technically named for my son, but ok, I'll tell you the truth: I named it after my son because he loves it, yeah yeah, but mostly because I love it, and now whenever I make it I get to seem like an amazing parent who is making her son's favorite meal for dinner while actually eating...my favorite meal. (Very selfless over here.)
Which one do you want? That one. And that one. And that one.
Noritake China Blue Hammock Serving Dish
I do not eat tacos. I will, on occasion, eat a burrito (and only "on occasion" because if I were to eat burritos as often as I would like to, I would become a burrito myself), but hard-shell tacos aren't something that's ever appealed to me. Don't they, like, break apart into tiny, shard-like pieces which then a) hurt you and b) result in the deliciousness inside getting out, which, as I gather, is not the point?
When it came to comfort foods, I was an odd kid. I'd come home from school and dump a can of French-style green beans into a bowl, microwave it, and eat the whole thing (yes, just a bowl of French-style canned green beans. Delish). I'd stop at the deli across the street and buy a whole pickle - you know, the ones that you get from the big jars behind the counter - and then settle down in front of Duck Tales with a bowl of salt, into which I would dip the pickle.
And then there was my favorite dinner: a recipe that I'm going to credit to my mother that involved...wait for it...
Microwaved salmon.
I love it when it's 5pm and I realize that I have to feed my beasts, then poke around in my refrigerator and discover that I have everything I need to whip up a dinner that they'll be thrilled about with just about zero effort.
This sauce - which is thrown over fresh store-bought gnocchi and finished by a quick run through the broiler with some fresh mozzarella on top - is the Platonic ideal of marinara sauce, I swear: it's light, but super flavorful, and 80% of the process of making it involves ignoring it.
(Did I mention my kids love it?)
