Today was my CSA pick up day.
Apples are in.
So is Swiss Chard
And we are still getting tomatoes.
Tonight, I cooked.
I made pan seared pork chops. I heated some olive oil in an oven proof skillet, threw in a few sprigs of fresh thyme from my garden and seared them. I then set them in a 350 degree oven to finish cooking.
Meanwhile, on top of the stove:
I peeled and sliced some apples and asian pears, put them in a skillet with a good knob of butter, spritzed them with lemon juice, drizzled them with honey and a little brown sugar and cinnamon and set it all on the back burner on low.
I rinsed some Baby Red Swiss Chard and put it to simmering on a front burner. When it was nice and soft I drained it, sauteed it with some bacon then added some red wine vinegar and a sprinkle of sugar.
I imagined TBHITW sitting upstairs in his office and all the aroma's of an early autumn meal wafting up to his nose. He would have called down to me, "Hey, Mrs. S, that smells good down there!
And that would have made me happy. So I smiled while I shook the pan with the Swiss Chard and checked the chops in the oven.
I set the table, poured a glass of wine and waited for everything to finish cooking. Tasting this, salting that.
It felt good to cook something lovely.
It felt good to eat something fresh and local and from my own hand.
I didn't cry while I ate dinner tonight.
I smiled at the memory of a thousand meals.
After dinner TBHITW would have helped me clean up and would have complained that "I did it to him again". He always said that when he ate too much. It was always my fault.
I liked being guilty of cooking "too good of a meal"