October 22, 2012
I roasted cauliflower with olive oil, salt and pepper on a half sheet pan for about 50 minutes at 375°, mid-Sunday morning.
It filled the house with the smell of roasting cauliflower. It's a smell I find pleasant and comforting. It made me wish for something with potatoes and salty bits of ham nestled in with winter cabbage bubbling slowly in a dutch oven.
I imagined myself sinking into my kitchen chair leaning into a steaming bowl with a nice lump of crusty bread. The heat from the potato and cabbage burning my tongue.
But, for now, I'll look forward to a lunch of quinoa with roasted cauliflower. I'm thinking it might taste even finer stretched into a pot of simmering broth. Most likely chicken. A nice soup of quinoa and cauliflower. A nice lump of crusty bread. Me, sinking into my kitchen chair, leaning into a steaming bowl.
After, I'll get comfortable on the sofa, perhaps with a throw, a nice cup of tea with honey, and read a chapter or two from M.F.K. Fisher (Love in a Dish) or Ruth Reichl (For You Mom, Finally).
The slim volume of M.F.K. Fisher is my first. I'm finding it agreeable, and, will no doubt acquire a clumsy collection of Ms. Fisher's writings in the near future, just as I have with Ruth Reichl's books.
I love how clever and honest their words are, and how honestly clever I feel after I read them.