I worked on three different posts today and I’m not going to use any of them. Instead I offer a cooking post on tonight’s hastily thrown together supper.
I arrived home close to five o’clock with my husband, Steven, due to arrive at 5:30. I felt pressed, I felt stressed, but I was on the job. After petting my dog (priorities, you know) then washing my hands (food safety, of course), I peeled and chopped an onion. I chopped it fairly small, because onions sometimes take a long time to cook, but not too small, because I didn’t have a lot of time to spend chopping. I put it in a pot with a lid, added some olive oil and put it over medium heat, so I would have something to turn down from when it started to sizzle.
I peeled and crushed some garlic and set the timer for fifteen minutes, so it could reach its full anti-oxidant qualities. Then I realized I could actually sit down for a few. After all, the onions did not need to be stirred constantly.
The onions were practically done, some of them even browning when the timer went off. I put the garlic in the pot and stirred it up. Leave it like that for a while? Check the time. Steve would be home soon. Check the onions. Getting soft.
I added a can of chicken broth and a can of water. Then I put in some frozen spinach. For seasoning I added lemon pepper (actually the bottle says Lemon and Pepper Salt Free), McCormick All-Purpose Salt-Free for Savory (or something like that)(I know I could go downstairs and check the bottle, but it’s been a long day), and parsley flakes. I briefly lamented that I could no longer get fresh parsley from the garden, but after all, people who package dried seasonings need to make a living, too.
When the broth boiled, I added cheese tortellini. It took a little longer to cook than package directions said, because it took a while for the broth to get back to boiling, but that was no big deal. Steven had arrived home just before I added the tortellini, and he had left again to go put air in my soft tire. Did I mention he is a very good husband?
Side note: Yes, I KNOW I can pump up my own soft tires. Steven offered to do it before we ate, so it would be done. Yes, I owe him a favor. Stop shaking your feminist fingers at me (you know who you are).
Mohawk Valley Girl 