I love entertaining, hosting dinners, parties, etc. Designing a menu, getting in the kitchen and then waiting for compliments and critiques is motivating force for my cooking.
But like sometimes I just get over it.
I've been ailing with some sort of virus. Initially, I wanted to cook for people and do the whole deal. But after getting off work and feeling exhausted, I decided I just wanted to make something for me. Which never happens. I cook FOR people. If I don't, then I have a bowl of granola or something equally pathetic for dinner.
So last night, I went to TJs and picked up pizza dough, mushrooms and mozzarella. I had some organic tomatoes and basil at home and a leftover onion. So I made a pizza.
First, I made a base inspired by my Italian roommate.
I put a bit of olive oil in a pan, through in some basil and let the oil warm it through.
Then I threw in a minced garlic clove, a couple tablespoons of chopped onion, a handful of sliced mushrooms, and two handfuls of halved ripe cherry tomatoes I needed to use. I sort of smashed that around and let it cook down until it was gloppy enough for the base.
After oiling the pan and preheating the oven to 450, I stretched out the pizza dough and layered on my sauce. Then I sliced up fresh mozzarella and julienned some more fresh basil from the garden.
After a pop in the oven with the crust browned and cheese bubbling and a bit of a cool down, I inhaled it (but shared with Jenaba and the pups).
It was nice to make something and not worry about other people's dietary desires or restrictions or multiple courses or whatever. I just wanted to do something for myself... mostly for the therapeutic cooking process. It's such a little thing to feel accomplished about, but it definitely made my day.
As did the glass of cab at the Hermosillo with the roomies - the first trip with all of us together.
xx
But like sometimes I just get over it.
I've been ailing with some sort of virus. Initially, I wanted to cook for people and do the whole deal. But after getting off work and feeling exhausted, I decided I just wanted to make something for me. Which never happens. I cook FOR people. If I don't, then I have a bowl of granola or something equally pathetic for dinner.
So last night, I went to TJs and picked up pizza dough, mushrooms and mozzarella. I had some organic tomatoes and basil at home and a leftover onion. So I made a pizza.
First, I made a base inspired by my Italian roommate.
I put a bit of olive oil in a pan, through in some basil and let the oil warm it through.
Then I threw in a minced garlic clove, a couple tablespoons of chopped onion, a handful of sliced mushrooms, and two handfuls of halved ripe cherry tomatoes I needed to use. I sort of smashed that around and let it cook down until it was gloppy enough for the base.
After oiling the pan and preheating the oven to 450, I stretched out the pizza dough and layered on my sauce. Then I sliced up fresh mozzarella and julienned some more fresh basil from the garden.
After a pop in the oven with the crust browned and cheese bubbling and a bit of a cool down, I inhaled it (but shared with Jenaba and the pups).
It was nice to make something and not worry about other people's dietary desires or restrictions or multiple courses or whatever. I just wanted to do something for myself... mostly for the therapeutic cooking process. It's such a little thing to feel accomplished about, but it definitely made my day.
As did the glass of cab at the Hermosillo with the roomies - the first trip with all of us together.
xx
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