I didn’t tell you this because I never got going–but I wanted to bake for you before you left.
I had visions of cheese bread. I found my recipe. I thought of making homemade pitas–so many recipes that week decorating my feed. I thought of baking cheese straws for you to take.
Baking filled my heart. I thought of making a pound cake, some macaroons, some cookie from the candy in the house.
You were leaving and I wanted to bake. I didn’t. We were busy. We always are busy. I didn’t want to make frightful messes and noise as you wrapped up things for your absence from work. I didn’t bake. I cooked a bit-but no baking.
Each week I struggle with menus. I think of things and then forget or they are all wrong for the week. But tonight, you buzzed and said “Pizza night.” You’d gotten email from my order. I started to tease you with things I had thought of to eat. I hadn’t yet but in that moment a menu danced in my head–a menu, a love song.
Egg and cheese sandwiches,
Pickles, and hashbrowns.
(scattered, smothered, covered, capped and diced)
A cheese plate with olives and cherry tomatoes,
Veggie burgers with avocado,
Cumin crusted tofu tacos with black bean salsa,
or maybe homemade mango salsa.
A quesadilla cut into a heart.
Omelet-rich with cheese and sauteed mushrooms and green onions,
Or goat cheese and fresh herbs…
Homemade Hummus, with those
Pitas I have never made.
A pasta salad
Made with rotini
and early in the day so the salad chills,
The flavors meld.
which kind? which kind? It’s very warm…so
Perhaps cucumbers and tomato…
(Did I tell you about everyone sniffing the tomatoes last night?
Store-bought. (last Friday.)
Perfect looking tomatoes.
They smelled so much of tomato–I made everyone sniff.
“Mmm” said youngest. “It’s a tomato-what did you think it would smell like?” said boy.
“Oh-wait–you got that at a supermarket? No way! Give it back-let me smell again.”
Me:”It’s incredible. Store-bought. Below my buy price for even
Better than on-sale price even!”
Watermelon agua fresca,
A pot of fresh coffee,
Cold, sweet water,
Ice cold bottle Coke
The list danced on in my head, the menu that never comes when I plan our week, a long-distance love song. A menu of everyday favorites and foods of romance.
But perhaps, we’d skip dinner.
It’s a love song after all.