Nat, Dani, Sarm, and Hetal came over for dinner, to see the new place, and to celebrate Nat's birthday. (We're both going to stay twenty-five for as long as possible. Maybe when we're forty, we can say that we're twenty-nine. Oh, Asian genes don't fail me!) While I didn't have forty-eight hours to braise a lamb to prepare a weekday meal, I cobbled together something that everyone cleared their plates of. Unfortunately, I messed up the freshdirect order, so there wasn't enough of the ravioli I decided I wanted to make. Luckily, I'm a dry pasta hoarder, and I made some capellini instead of the ravioli. Not as interesting, but filling and handy.
For dessert we had cupcakes from Crumbs: red velvet, chocolate blackout, and a berry crumble. Mmmm! Mmmm! Mmmm!
Among the things we discussed were Jersey Shore (dancing out of underwear?), Zooey Deschanel, the failure of the NBHS ten-year reunion, prom-date Chopra, and the guy who spearheaded Modernist Cuisine, which we happened to still have in a box. Our last official box. But tonight, we unveiled it. And despite being so stuffed that I had to unbutton the top of my jeans as soon as my guests left, I was salivating when I came upon the photos of the Onion Stock (which seemed like one thing that might be doable without a centrifuge) from Book 5. Happily, he suggests one can use store-bought items like puff pastry and stuff like that. I just saw a photo of his Poke. Mmmmm! I wonder how much of this stuff could actually be made in our kitchen, and how much might be too fantastic.
Oh, the guy who spearheaded Modernist Cuisine and being fascinated by penguin poop speeds, and $250,000/week yachts, and graduating college before adulthood. Cankles.
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