Chocolate Chip Cookie Bars

Sometimes all I want after a long day is to come home, serve myself a generous glass of wine and indulge in something buttery, chocolatey, and rich.  It’s too bad my day job interferes with my willingness to bake, daily.

But I recently discovered a recipe that calls for melted butter (instead of softened butter, which can take hours to properly soften, depending on the temperature of one’s apartment, which is cold if one is as unwilling to pay to for hot air as I), and is intended to create cookie bars.  This trims just enough time required for gooey chocolate chip cookies to enable me to bake on a weeknight.

Spaghetti con Ceci

Last year, mid-August, I stumbled home from the farmers market, giddy with excitement—I had bagged beautiful, delightfully-ripe tomatoes, freshly plucked from their Pennsylvania vines, and very likely some of the season’s last.  The Physicist was markedly less enthusiastic than I was as he eyeballed what must have been 25 pounds of perfect tomatoes.  And then it was as though I saw them for the first time—my God, who brought this huge bag of tomatoes home with me??—and felt a flutter of panic.  I could not let them go to waste, on principle, but how can two people eat 25 pounds of tomatoes in a week?

Tomato sauce, that’s how.  The Physicist loves tomato sauce, and I love that it stores well.

 

Wheat Berry Salad

I love bringing my lunch to work.  The cheapskate in me loves saving the extra seven to ten bucks a day on mediocre cafeteria food, but I also secretly love fielding the oohs-and-ahhs from curious colleagues.  I work in a very foodie-forward, cost-conscious office, so I’m in good company but am still very flattered when I win an arched eyebrow or a covetous glance at the lunch table.

Spaghetti al Limone (with Shrimp)

The Physicist and I have a system of rating dinner, which is this: We sit down to eat.  We each take a few bites.  I look at him and try to discern his reaction, unsuccessfully (The man has a master poker face).  I say, ‘How is it?’; he nods and says, ‘It’s good.’  Then I say, ‘Is it tofu-sloppy-Joe’s-good, or lemon-spaghetti-good?’*  This lemon spaghetti is seriously that good.

*Tofu sloppy Joe’s are our standard for being terrible without going so far as to make one (or two) sick.  It’s not that they were inedible, it’s just that the Physicist was expecting meat.  He was understandably disappointed.  But when he ate them—on our third date—and lied and said they were good—I knew this man must love me.  I have since compensated by feeding him well.

I can sympathize if you don’t think it’s worth it to zest three lemons and juice them by hand.  It seems quaint … you can buy lemon juice in a bottle now, you know.  They sell zest in the spice aisle.  Don’t show off.

Couscous Cabbage Salad

Sometimes I find something I can eat for months on end without tiring of it.  Carrots come to mind, as does rice and beans.  Oatmeal bar and M&Ms also fall into this category.  And now I’ve discovered a new one—couscous cabbage salad!

I know, I know, it sounds a little too California-crunchy and, honestly, gross and terrible.  But if you just give it a try, you might find yourself enjoying the contrast between the crunchy cabbage and the chewy couscous, or minty freshness complimented by the slightly licorice-y fennel.  There’s something lovely in its simplicity.

Peanutella

I hosted a friend’s engagement party a few weeks ago.  I love entertaining—all that cooking, eating, and drinking!  Oh, and all that great company!—but the stakes are definitely higher when the entertaining is on behalf of your best friend.  And she’s getting married.  Zoiks! 

This calls for chocolate, I told myself, though I admittedly didn’t need too big of a push in that direction.  The very next day—I swear—I found a version of homemade Nutella on one of my favorite cooking blogs.

My stars were aligning!  But instead of hazelnuts—those fastidious, temperamental little nuts—Deb used peanuts, which is even more inspired—the perfect marriage of chocolate and peanut could help us celebrate my friend’s betrothal.