Be Jealous!

Right about now my husband is upstairs clamoring around in the kitchen preparing a special meal that I requested. Not feeling too good today, I just had a hankering for some straight up pasta with fresh tomatoes. My husband makes the best, by the way. While in the grocery store I was redirected by the magnetic pull of the deli counter and the fact that they carry genoa salami. So, I got some of that too and now it's going into the pasta. I can hear the soft thud of the knife hitting the cutting board and the clanging of the pots and the lids and I'm getting really, really excited!

Food, oh, food. What is it about not feeling well and having a craving for whatever your "comfort food" may be? Is it because our mothers, in an attempt to make us feel better and perk up, were just willing to make whatever when were sick as children? Maybe. I don't clearly recall that, but it sure seems to work now. More than likely I'm writing this post about food because I didn't eat lunch today. I literally didn't feel like it. And I had a good lunch today. Minestrone, freshly made by none other than my husband last night. Italian food has become my new norm for comfort food. Not only are the flavors, consistency and warmth full of comfort, but there's a certain sense of comfort found it the actual construction of Italian food. I'm downstairs in the basement and all I know is that I picked up some tomatoes and the salami for my husband to prepare dinner. But I can guarantee that the chopping sound I've been hearing was garlic, basil and salami which will then be sauteed together in hot olive oil. The flavors will diffuse in the oil and carry through the whole dish. Then he'll add the tomatoes until they've cooked down and will season to taste. Halfway through cooking the sauce, he'll put the pasta in boiling water with a few drops of olive oil. A few minutes in to cooking the pasta, he'll salt the water. Drain the pasta, combine ingredients and voila! See? Now that's real comfort. Knowing every single ingredient that goes into your food. How often can we say that?

The Italians have not only mastered "l'arte di non far niente" (the art of doing nothing), but I think they've also mastered the art of cooking. Two of the things I love most in my life, hence my choice of spouse. Oh, sloth.... ugh!