Ah, Sunday dinner. Or what I like to call, The Only Day of the Week in Your 20s That You Turned On the Stove to Make Something Other Than Tuna Helper.
You and your roommates would band together, bust out a jar of Prego and some garlic bread, then sit around the table like a real family. Only instead of discussing your days at school and work you'd recount all the drunken escapades of the weekend. Sometimes, you showered for the occasion.
What cracks me up about Sunday dinners now is how cooking was such a novelty. It's like, let's play house and COOK something! It'll be fun! We'll go to the grocery store and everything!
Now, I need to feed the hubby something other than canned green beans and cheese tortillas. So I cook. Every. Night.
But I'm not bitter.
OK, I'm being a little dramatic. Because if you know me you know that I really love to cook. But I especially enjoy cooking on Sundays. I like spending the afternoon puttering around the kitchen and making the house smell good.
This week, with some leftover lasagna noodles in the cupboard and homemade meatballs in the freezer, I decided to make a meatball lasagna.
See that basil on the counter? I GREW that. In my GARDEN. God, if my 22-year-old self could see me now. I used to kill house plants and betta fish on a weekly basis back then.
Of course, I forgot to take a picture of the finished product (I blame it on the DVRed episode of Gossip Girl I was watching at the time. I had to get back to see what that schemer Georgina was up to!) But it was delish, trust. Totally going to continue this tradition.
No comments:
Post a Comment