He just doesn’t get…
…that sometimes I have to make three desserts in one weekend.
…that I “have” to have a cupboard of mis-matched dishes.
...that I have to go to six different stores to find the right type of olives. (No, I can’t use the ones that the kids used to stick on the end of their fingers at Thanksgiving.)
…that I have two cupboards dedicated to flours (and a section of the freezer).
…that I have to make something with chicken livers even though I don’t like chicken livers.
…that I cannot and will not make a cake from a box mix.
…that sometimes I have to make the (insert insane item here) instead of buying it pre-made.
…that I really DO need another bundt pan.
…and 6” and 4” spring form pans.
…and four different sized tart pans.
...sometime dinner has to comprise three to four totally unmatched cuisine items. Yes - you can have Indian, Italian and southern food all in the same meal.
But I think he’s getting used to it.
So, when I told him that we were having tuna stuffed peppers as an appetizer for dinner last Sunday night, he gave it a slight nose wrinkle and only questioned the concept moderately. I am pretty sure that my initial reaction was much worse - fortunately, I know enough to not show my distaste of a recipe that I am about to cook. (You can't let them smell your fear - or you'll never get them to eat it...)
This week, the French Friday with Dorie crew undertook stuffed peppers. But not just any old stuffed peppers - these were peppers stuffed with tuna fish.
What the what? I didn't think you could put anything besides Spanish rice in peppers.
A salad of chunk tuna, chopped olives, capers, minced shallot, lemon juice, olive oil, thyme and salt/ peppers was stuffed into the cavity of the nearest unsuspecting roasted pepper. The recipe called for the ever elusive piquillo peppers. Since no grocer in Fulton County, NY seemed to have those on the shelf (I might as well have been looking for a unicorn hugging a leprechaun), standard roasted red peppers appeared instead. Once stuffed (rolled), they spent some time under the broiler - just because.
At which point, I made him eat them.He didn't get it, but he ate it. (Frankly, I liked the filling better spread over a slice of toast the next day).
By the time this posts, we will be across the country almost 3,000 miles away from home - so that I can attend the International Food Bloggers Conference in Seattle, WA. Yes, I will have dragged him all the way across the country and he will totally not understand why. (Although, to be fair, I feel the same way about football...)
He may not get it, but at the end of the day, if he enables me while I am doing it – that’s all that really matters.
This post participates in French Fridays with Dorie.