Last night we had a dinner party. Supper club to be exact. The windows were open, the garlic cooking, my favorite Harvest Wreath candle burning, and the house abnormally clean for a Thursday night. It was a really nice change of pace.
Matt fixed tomato salad and an Italian dish; gnocchi with sauteed mushrooms, artichokes, pesto, onions, red peppers, basil, and garlic. I tried to take a picture of him cooking, but I was forbidden. Chef Matt does not like distractions.
When I told him he was going to have to write the recipe down, he shrugged his shoulders. That's because he does not operate in the world of recipes. It's really exasperating for list makers like me. He throws things in the air, a dash of this, a pinch of that. You'll just have to take my word for it; it was good.
And you're probably asking yourself, "Uh, what did Liz contribute to this dinner?" Well, I present this goofy photo as evidence that I contributed the dessert (blogged about here but with raspberry jam and fresh strawberries), cleaning power, and of course the fluffing. You know, candle lighting, pillow plumping, table setting. I love the fluffing.
Our dinner guests were so much fun. There was laughter and talking and one rousing game of Taboo. It made me think, "Wouldn't it be fantastic to not work? To stay home and cook food and set tables with flowers and entertain people?" I've obviously been watching too much of her and reading too much of this.