Naomi: Cooking for one and for friends



For years now, even before I wrote the recipes in what I think of as my "static blog," Fiftytworecipesfrommymother, at the request of my children, Sarah and Sam, Sarah had been urging me to keep a daily (more or less) record of my cookings--the meals I make for myself in my (surprisingly) solitary life as well as those I make for friends. For whatever reasons, I've never done it.


But, after months of wandering, I've finally begun. As I haven't quite mastered the art of cooking for one, and love throwing together grand meals at the last minute, I have been encouraging friends to call to check on what I might have on hand any evening for a quick meal. Instructions can be found in my entry for March 20th--What's in Naomi's Refrigerator.

This is primarily a record of the meals I prepare for myself and others, accompanied by "mug shots" of the food (when I remember to photograph before eating). Shot by my phone, with no styling, they may not capture their subjects at their best, but so be it.



Wednesday, May 16, 2012

May 16th. Meatballs. Triple Expresso Gelato. Salad with avocado and blood oranges.

Although I'd been mentally roasting asparagus to eat with eggs for lunch, a perfect and healthy meal.  But, I ended up eating a meatball sandwich instead. Arrived home starving from biking and yoga and those meatballs, jammed into their container were ready to go.  Perhaps I shouldn't call these meatballs left-overs.  Maybe they were prepared to provide an endless series of lunches and dinners, irresistible and delicious.
Still more meatballs
Then biked to Whole Foods where I met Lena and Phoebe--and continuing the afternoon indulgence had a triple expresso gelato (small size--but that felt triple as well).  Of course I couldn't resist a quick dash into the 99¢ store for some random purchases--cauliflower, organic lettuce, milk, etc.
Thought I might pass on dinner altogether, but eventually made a quick  salad with the Farmer"s Market greens, avocado and blood oranges.  A different sort of indulgence, I suppose


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