Fabulous and New

sounds so dreamy and delicious. Who doesn’t want fabulous new boots, kitchen, brains, boobs, or dinner? Fabulous new puppies look so cute. Who couldn’t use a fabulous new boyfriend? Heck I could go for a fabulous new pair of socks. Forget the old coat and the old kids. Fabulous and new, baby.
Except in reality, it would be a celluloid nightmare that I got from watching too much late night television and not enough sleep.
I have a pair of beautiful new boots in the closet. Number of times I’ve worn them: 0
The last thing I want is someone taking a sledgehammer to my kitchen and making dust. I love my kitchen.
Brains: I’ll just leave that blank.
New boobs would only highlight that the rest of me looks like I overstayed my tub time. Plus I like to sleep on my stomach.
A new boyfriend? A. I’m crazy about my husband B. I fall asleep at about 7:46 pm.
As much as he can drive me out of my only mind, I would never, not ever never trade my Ferdinand.
My coat: maybe
Dinner: the truth is, even when I go out, I don’t feel all upside down and wonderful at a brand new restaurant that is making brand new food. I think, maybe I should have gone to Shake Shack.
Which is why every time I look at a bunch of fresh spinach I think of either a stacked sandwich of red peppers, fresh mozzarella, roasted eggplant and spinach or spinach sformata or cream of spinach soup or saag aloo or pasta. I love them all, I’ve had them all about fifty billion million times and I almost always make pasta. Slivers of fresh garlic sauteed in a fruity olive oil tossed around with wilted spinach leaves, a little pepperoncino, crispy homemade croutons and pasta is just plain old dependably delicious.
I’m not saying there isn’t room for keeping things lively.
I took the vegetable peeler to the side of a lemon and added the strip of zest to the croutons when I was toasting them in the pan with chopped parsley. The trick: do the garlic first with the pepperoncino. Set to the side. Now the croutons, and on the side they go. Add the spinach to the same pan, and then let it sit in the sieve while you wait for the pasta. Drain the pasta really well, saving a few spoons of the cooking liquid. Toss everything together but the croutons. Tilt the pan, add the cooking water you saved, and drop in a handful of parmesan. Let the parm melt w/ a drizzle of olive oil and then stir into the rest of the pasta to coat. Right before you walk to the table, toss the croutons through. Put your old slippers on and taste for salt.

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