Bar Food
At the risk of sounding like someone completely unfit to practice law, it kind of hit me on Saturday just how overwhelming this whole Bar Exam business is going to be. For one thing, I had a Bar Review class on a Saturday morning. The gall. And during the class, we spent exactly one hour “learning” a topic that I just spent an entire semester learning. In other words, there’s a lot to cover in a short amount of time and, well, it all felt a little daunting on Saturday.
So, when Kevin left for the Cubs game that day, I was all too happy to hole up with my books for the afternoon. By the time I emerged, my brain felt a bit swollen and my stomach was rumbling louder than the El train outside our back windows. Not feeling much like heading to the store, I took a gander in the fridge and pantry and threw together a quick pasta.
(Click “more” for the rest of the story, more photos & the recipe.)
Sad to See it Go
After all my whining about spring-this and summer-that last week, I suppose it’s only predictable that I’m now feeling quite sad that winter is slipping away. Cozy sweaters, roaring fires, steamy bowls of oatmeal, freshly fallen snow. I love all these things and will be sad to see them go. And I haven’t even started in on the cold-weathered food I will miss.
There are still quite a few winter recipes on my to do list. Even though I’m itching to use fresh produce and lighter, brighter flavors, I’m not so sure I’m ready to give up roasting, stewing, smothering or braising. So, I’ve decided to embrace the last stubborn days of winter. I will eat root vegetables, I will make as many pots of soup as possible and, by god, I will stuff things with cheese.
(Click “more” for the rest of the story, more photos & the recipe.)
Smoky Baked Mac
That tangle of gooey, cheesy, smoky baked macaroni that you see there just might be my husband’s favorite thing about me. It allows me to wield an influence over him that, frankly, borders on unfair. He practically swoons when I offer to make if for him. And, I say “for him,” intentionally. While I like pasta as much as the next gal, I don’t have the weak-kneed reaction to oozy baked mac that so many others (Kevin clearly included) do. So, I typically make this for him when I’m going to be out of town or just out for the night.
I mean, the whole absence makes the heart grow fonder thing is great and all. But when mere absence alone won’t do, I can always rest assured that a saran-wrapped dish of ready-to-be-baked-off mac in the fridge will do the trick.
(Click “more” for the rest of the story, more photos & the recipe.)
Lasagna: Layer by Layer
After my sister, Ali, upped the ante last week with her dinner pick (which she was forced to make in the wake of her Biggest Loser Bowl loss), I knew I had to come up with something pretty good when one of my teams got booted next. And if there’s a dinner that’s only too happy to one-up all the other dinners, it’s lasagna. A couple reasons for my choice …
(Click “more” for the rest of the story, more photos & a layer-by-layer recipe of sorts.)
Double Dare Ravioli
Fresh off the heels of one kitchen rectification, I’ve already got another one to share with you. It’s been a big couple days for me—as far as conquering kitchen demons go. And while I attribute the caramel success to a very helpful commenter to this blog, I attribute this latest success to a double dare. Practically a double dog dare.
You see, I’ve made it no secret that homemade pasta has been my Achilles heel. And, truth be told, I really had no serious intention of doing anything about it. But, this weekend, we didn’t have much going on and I started to think about it.
While it was still just a teensy, tiny idea in the back of my mind, I mentioned to my friend Brynn (an excellent cook) that it might be time to give it another go. She responded by telling me she had complete confidence in me. Do you know why, dear readers? Oh, because—as she went on to tell me—she used to make it all the time. When she was a little girl. Usually when her parents left her alone with a babysitter. She then proceeded to spout off the perfect ratio of ingredients from memory. So, as I said, I was essentially double dared by the 7-year-old version of my friend to make pasta. In my mind’s eye, she was actually sticking her thumbs in the ears, waggling her fingers, and sticking out her tongue at me.
(Click “more” for the rest of the story, more photos and the recipe)


















