On the way home from the soup swap last night, I bailed on my husband and a friend on our date at the Wing Dome, a decent wings place a few blocks from our house. I drove home instead, and in an attempt to avoid food altogether (I ate a lot at the swap) I entered a mouse potato state in front of my computer. A few hours later, the dragon in my stomach started roaring, and I whipped up what I intended to be a quick, easy pasta dinner.
For the record: cauliflower is underrated. If you slice it and brown it in a little butter and olive oil, with some chopped garlic, it tastes really, really good. That’s what I did, thinking I’d make pasta with butter and garlic and cauliflower, and sit on the couch and revel in my quick and uninspiring dinner. But these things never go as planned. The boys came home, and all the sudden I’d added half a box of baby spinach to the cauliflower pan (with the cauliflower pushed to the side), sauteed it until it was nice and wilted, and added a chopped roma tomato, chopped chicken from a leftover chicken thigh, salt, pepper, and about 1/2 cup of cream, and it let it all simmer together while the pasta cooked. I added a little pasta water to the chicken/veggie combo, along with the pasta and a handful of toasted walnuts, tossed the whole thing together, and served it to myself in my most comfortable hooded sweatshirt with an unreasonable amount of goat cheese crumbled over the top.
I love nights like that.