With the rest of the world, I’ve always been a little smitten with Ina Garten. Mostly for her ability to pack up everything she’s just made into those perfect plastic containers before meeting Jeffrey at the beach. That’s where she cloaks the sand with a beautiful blanket and speckles it with the prepared food that’s somehow still warm. Is it the magic of TV or Ina? Ina does picnics like no one else.
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It usually greets us at the end of week, Friday night, on a bruised wooden paddle, in the form of a misshapen circle. From its charred edges and familiar flavors it whispers, I love you. Every single time. If homemade pizza were a love language, I’d speak it fluently. We go together like dark chocolate and peanut butter. Like a crispy crust and a bright green pesto. Read more
I have a favorite guy at the farmer’s market. He’s probably a bit older than my dad. His hair is white and his skin sun-kissed. His eyes are a soft trustworthy blue with well worn lines around them which tells me he smiles a lot. But most importantly, he has dirt under his fingernails. If his eyes weren’t already trustworthy enough. Read more
Can I tell you something? This Food Matters Project is changing my life. We are trying a new recipe every week. It’s quite a miracle. If I actually made New Years resolutions, this would be one of them. It’s also cleaning up our diet. Our meals are more focused around vegetables that, might I add, taste good. No, divine. This week was no different—Roasted Red Pepper Pesto. Fingers dirty. Playing with food. Peeling off red pepper skin. I was in little girl heaven. There’s something beautiful about holding the food you make. Turning it into something palatable. I felt like an artisan. Read more
Step away from the phone. Put down those coupons. Let’s talk through this.
What if I told you that you could make homemade pizza in less time than it takes the pizza man to deliver? Including the crust. Most definitely including the crust. And what if I told you it would taste a trillion times better? And amount to zero calories? Ok, the last part is not true. Read more
It’s back-to-school time again. And it’s kinda a big year for us. No, no little ones on the way. It’s Kevin’s (aka graduate school husband) last year of graduate school. Next year, we leave for internship. Time flies. Three short years ago, we married, moved to Chicago, and Kevin started graduate school in hopes of becoming a clinical psychologist. Hopes are beginning to turn into realities. And I’m gonna have to rewrite the first paragraph of my bio. One year closer to dropping the sugar momma title! Read more
Did you lose sleep wondering how I served these homemade pasta noodles? Hopefully not.
Originally, I thought I would coat these cute little guys in a pink vodka sauce. Then I remembered New Years was only days ago. Something lighter was in order. Drum roll please—so I decided to go with Pesto. Spinach Pesto that is.
This recipe comes from one of my favorite cookbooks—Everyday Food. It’s quick. Easy. Healthy. What more could you ask for?
Spinach Pesto
Everyday Food
1/2 c. walnuts
1/2 c. parmesan cheese
4 c. lightly packed fresh spinach leaves
1 garlic clove
1/2 c. extra-virgin olive oil
Coarse salt and ground pepper
1. Preheat oven to 350°. Spread nuts evenly on a rimmed baking sheet; toast in oven until golden and fragrant, 8 to 10 minutes. Let cool completely.
2. In a food processor, combine nuts, spinach, parmesan, and garlic; season generously with salt and pepper. Process until nuts are finely chopped. With machine running, pour oil in a steady stream through the feed tube; process until smooth.
3. In a saucepan, add pesto to your cooked homemade noodles. (I also sauteed a couple chopped tomatoes and an onion for extra veggies prior to adding the noodles with pesto to the saucepan.) Cook for 5 minutes and serve.
Pesto will keep for 1 week in the fridge.
I have to be honest, I was nervous how this would turn out. First time making homemade noodles with my new machine. First time making spinach pesto. This could have spelled disaster. Thankfully, it was just the opposite. We ate every last noodle and then wished for more.
