The First Forty-Eight Hours

Tuesday dinner went much as planned, except my husband had cereal.

<>Wednesday night things got tricky.
(Aside: Does this sound familiar? You just got home from a good hard workout or a long day at work. You are jazzed to be home and your dinner starts out fantastic (at least in your head). You'll add a little of this and a little of that and throw in an extra somethin' somethin'. Then you start to get tired; your creativity fizzles into laziness and you forget to read the recipe or measure things and start to eat your half-cooked meal with your fingers standing up over the sink. At this point, put down the plate, have a big glass of milk and go snuggle your life partner/cat/stuffed animal. This will spare you a) having to eat anything as awful as a chopped beet, hardboiled egg, chickpea and peanut salad and b) the humiliation that you suffer when, in an attempt to prove to your husband that you do NOT need to go out to dinner and there is plenty to cook at home, you prove just the opposite.) We started strong with the appetizers. I sliced the leftover Italian sausage into discs, then sauted them in a nonstick pan until crisp. Seeing how many paper towels they went through when I drained them, I decided to forgo the goat cheese for something a bit lighter (husband, this is where you Stop! and Say No! to excess) and served them toothpicked onto little squares of bell pepper. Delicious. Next time I might add another layer in between. Like a bit of folded lettuce. Or a grape. Or something smooshy. Hummus?

Why didn't I quit while I was ahead? Or just make an omelette? The answer, gentle reader, is tricky and involves years of therapy to figure why I do not like deviating from written plans without several weeks notice.

<>I've included the recipe for chickpea cakes below (and to which you might consider adding a splash of soy sauce to heighten the savory side). I, for reasons both within and beyond my control, did not follow the recipe. All started to go downill when I realized I didn't have the cornmeal. This is a key ingredient I used at little flour in the mix to keep it from being to goopy, then tried to use breadcrumbs for the outside. DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME. Instead of tasting like the lovely little summery cakes they were upon their invention, they tasted like chickpeas and yogurt and lemon and parsley all mixed together with Panko smooshed in on top. (Note—these fancy Japanese breadcrumbs are delicious with fishcakes, but just do not get along with my friend the Garbanzo bean) I also forgot the garlic (I really was quite tired) and did not mash the chickpeas enough.

They didn't exactly taste bad. At least, they didn't make me gag (not a good sign, describing one' s dinner as non-vomit inducing). I suffered through a few bites before remembering: We have pesto! Not only do we have pesto, but we have some of the tastiest pesto I have ever had, thanks to my husband not listening to me when I tried to convince him not to make it (another long story for another day, or maybe never, as I am ashamed to recall it). I smeared a little pesto on the cakes and they were perfectly palatable. My husband had been exercising outside in the record-breaking heat, and, fortunately for him, I had thrown the remaining cakes in the garbage by the time he recovered. The lucky duck had a tomato/cheese sandwich.

Chickpea Cakes

1 can chickpeas
Juice of 1 leomn
1/4 large sweet onion
7 cloves garlic, minced
1/3 c. chopped parsley
1/4 c. plain yogurt
salt & pepper
cornmeal

Drain the chickpeas and mash them very well with a potato masher (don't puree them, though, just make sure you don't leave in hunks of skin). Saute the onions and garlic in a little olive oil. Mix with the chickpeas, lemon juice, parsley, yogurt, a little salt & pepper and a Tablespoon of cornmeal. Form into patties. It's okay if they are loose, but add more meal if they are liquidy. Should remind you of lumpy oatmeal. Dip the patties in a plate of cornmeal and fry in lots of hot olive oil until golden. Serve on a bed of greens.

Thursday supper was greatly improved (something to do with knowing our limits, I think. Don't get used to it). It was 99 degrees and humid when we got home from work, so grilling was out. My visually and culinarily creative husband made an appetizer tray of crackers with either blue or goat cheese and slices of fresh peach on top. Divine.
We then had a sage, basil and parmesan frittata with slices of fresh bell pepper on the side. Also lovely and simple.

In the interest of full disclosure, I now relate to you the following incident, by the end of whose description you will surely agree that we had little choice but to do what we did. Thursday night is Date Night, and we planned to have a non-spending date by going out for ice cream with a gift card we received for our wedding. When we arrived, we were horrified to see a note on the door that their card machine was down and they could not accept credit or gift cards. We remained horrified, pondering the sugar-free popsicles in our freezer, and chose to withdraw the cash to buy ice cream. It really couldn't have gone any other way.