My kids are so beautiful they would break your heart–little red mouths, big eyes the color of chocolate and water–and, gosh, they say funny things. I’m sure that you would think so, too, if I told you all about them, transcribing their little grown-up voices, their shakily emergent views of reality, their sweet speech quirks, their missing consonants, and misplaced modifiers.
And my husband–what a dreamboat. Truly. If he shaved his chest, he could be cast in some ridiculous cologne commercial, in black-and-white, with crashing waves and whispers in the background. He strides around the house in tight t-shirts, talking of etymology and literature, repairing holes in the dry wall and hanging shelves, my own Renaissance version of an HGTV hunk.
Meanwhile, my snug little house grows cozier, thanks mostly to my handy husband and to my rotating obsessions with chalk paint and stencils; outside, my garden sleeps under a thick blanket of straw and snow.
But I’m not going to tell you about any of those things. Probably you have your own cute children who say hilarious things, your own hunky husband (maybe without the etymology talk), your own dream-house-in-progress, and your own sleeping garden…and if not, then hearing about mine would be awfully boring.
Instead of all that admittedly wonderful stuff, I’m going to tell you what I’m planning to make for dinner this week, and how you can make some of it, too (the best part of it, I hope). I’ll show you some pictures of what’s landing on my dinner table so that you can launch some new ideas of your own.
If nothing else, this blog will be a better record of how I fed my family than the pile of rumpled paper menus I keep tucked in the back of my recipe file.