Tuesday, September 4, 2012
the first supper
We arrived at our new apartment while it was still under construction. Surprise! A day and a half later -- and two gas leaks in the kitchen (surprise!) -- we started getting settled in. I forgot how utterly exhausting it is to move. Everyone knows moving's not fun, not something you want to do every year, or even every seven years, but the physicality of it! The lifting and bending and reaching and scrubbing and shoving a too-big clothing rack down three flights of stairs. Whew!
But now, I am typing this in our new bedroom, Mabel curled up at my side, listening to the ocean hum of the brand new dishwasher and things don't seem all that hectic.
Last night, after a long day of what felt like a constant stream of activity, we needed to eat dinner. Living off take-out, however good (Tacos! Fancy sandwiches! Thai!), is gross after a few days. And I knew that as soon as I was able to assemble a homemade meal in the new kitchen and we were able to eat it, the house would start to feel more like ours.
So I found a saute pan and some olive oil and turned a baguette into rustic croutons. I sliced up a few deep red and purple tomatoes and some colorful cherry tomatoes and tossed them in a mixture of more oil and vinegar. I ripped up a handful of basil and piled it all around two creamy mounds of burrata cheese. And I marveled at how I was able to do this with ample unused counter space. Damn, old kitchen, you were small.
And then I washed the dishes in the dishwasher which made the meal feel downright fabulous. Mabel thought so too, as you can see.