I've been cooking this week. I understand that that might not sound like much, but I don't cook all that much (as opposed to simply making something to eat), except for holidays and special events and the occasional set of brownies or pie for my family.
Monday, I made something, and I do not remember what.
Tuesday was trivia, hence no cooking.
Wednesday was quesadillas.
Thursday was leftover turkey (at Easter, the local market had turkeys at 39 cents a pounds, so we bought two), fresh string beans sauteed in garlic butter and homemade garlic bread.
Last night was chicken breasts pounded flat and cooked in lemon and garlic butter (think lemon piccata without the capers) and a sauce of the drippings plus white wine, more butter and ground savory; watermelon and mint salad dressed with olive oil and balsamic vinegar and topped with feta cheese (oh, my God, so good); and oven roasted potatoes.
Brunch today was homemade peach coffeecake, scrambled eggs with fresh-laid eggs from a friend's chickens, leftover salad, orange juice, and homemade espresso.
My plans for dinner tonight include homemade french bread (if it lasts until dinner -- Mr. "I should eat my weight in carbs," a.k.a the Red-Headed Menace, is around), ham and cauliflower.
Everyone in my family is happy about this. Even me. Now, time to go taste test one of the loaves of French bread (this is a new recipe for me).
If I keep going, maybe next week sometime I'll try my hand at croissants. We have a marble board that is criminally underused.
That should be fun.