BON APPETIT-NOOO

It’s that time again. Time to get to it. TIME TO GET A MOVE ON. TIME TO MAKE IT HAPPEN. CHOWTIME. DINNERTIME. OH, IT’S SUP-SUP-SUPPERTIME!

With that in mind, I quickly break open the fridge and eyeball every nook-and-cranny in search of a tasty meal. Peering in, I anticipate imagine(cross my fingers) that a fully prepared entrée and all its savory side fixings will have made the scene. The likelihood of that miraculous reveal is nil. But on the outside chance…

I persevere. And that’s when I make my next move.

Heading towards the cabinets flanking my kitchen I throw wide those doors. While immediately and enthusiastically applauding the insides, I eagerly await all the yummy options to materialize.

Although my clapping and cheering has yet to produce any fully-loaded platefuls, I am still rooting for those shelves to ultimately cooperate. Sooner than later? Pleeeesssseee.

All that being said, you will likely find me engaging in this undertaking – best described as: “what’s for dinner? I have no idea” – on a routine basis. #nightly

I SPEND A LOT OF TIME HOLDING THE REFRIGERATOR DOOR OPEN LOOKING FOR ANSWERS

One would think my bursting shelves of Ina, Ina, Ina and yada, yada, yada… and much time spent perusing, placing sticky notes and folding back page corners … would make mealtime a cinch.

But after all that perusing, etc., I am overwhelmed and light-headed and, of course, hungry.

One would think the desire to present delicious cuisine, minus reheating or magical finding, would encourage some robust oomph to make it happen. I mean… I love me a good cooking show, exchanging recipes with friends (friends with benefits?) and browsing the recipe-laden internet.

I’ve thought about creating a meal plan for the week. 

I’ve thought about signing up with one of those meal shipping operations where they handle everything. 

I’ve thought about singling out one cookbook and dishing it out from beginning-to-end.

Thought about. 

As the self-appointed micromanager of my kitchen I spearheaded an effort to organize my recipes. Starting with countless food magazines, I tore out individual cooking directions that spoke to me, “cook me, I’m beautiful.”

A notebook – stuffed, crammed, jam-packed with all those tear-outs along with newspaper clippings, index cards and scraps of paper saved through the years – now calls to me. I CAN’T HEAR YOUUUUU.

For that reason, I draw upon my usual plats du jour (I don’t speak the language, but how very French of me) – all in rotation – week after week with an occasional newbie in the mix.

More often than not, even if I have a recipe, I rarely follow it verbatim. It’s not that I call into question the professionally proposed teaspoon, cup or pinch… I just like to add my own spin and doctor things up. I got it from my mama. But unlike my mama – not always with relished consequence.

I used to derive great pleasure from cooking; trying new things, being creative. That was before children (I say blame the children). Nowadays it’s legit a struggle to commit to a cuisine before I can even think about getting a move on.

I am thrilled when a request is made… speak up, what do you have a hunger for?  That really takes the pressure off. Cause once I get going, all that chopping is quite therapeutic and I take great satisfaction in the placing of ingredients in separate little bowls.

Word to the wise, “I don’t know” and “I don’t care” are not, in any case, favorable answers to the question posed.

Company’s coming? From what I remember, I do enjoy cooking for parties. It’s been a while, right? I think back to all the groundwork in anticipation of the gathering: mulling over the menu, choosing the beverages and writing many to-do lists. Above all, I looked forward to SETTING THE TABLE. Couldn’t I just do that?

As strange as it may seem, there does exist competitive  tablescaping. Apparently it is intense. Like I’ll cut you intense. Imagine all the obsessive attention to napkin origami, fanatical adherence to themes, the candles, candelabras and confetti. Oy and where can I witness this?

But let’s get real. After all that planning, cooking and setting…  I just want to say to my lovely guests, “thank you so much for coming, enjoy din-din, I am going to bed.”

Well, it’s getting to be about that time in my house. Time to get to it. TIME TO GET A MOVE ON. TIME TO MAKE IT HAPPEN. CAUSE IT’S SUPPER, SUPPER, SUPPER, SUPER-DUPER SUPPERTIME!

Anybody up for furry leftover “best vegetarian chili EVER” or fuzzy pasta lingering on the middle shelf? Salad greens, broccoli and mushrooms? Sorry to say… all beyond use-by-date.

Frozen pizza? Anyone?

Ps. If you have a fab recipe on your rotation – send it my way. I might even include it in mine… or at least add it to my overstuffed notebook of “ideas”.