 I am an East Coast expatriate hiding out in the Midwest... I am an urban gal living in the suburbs and occasionally hiding in the country I am a yoga practitioner, fitness enthusiast, believer in the mind-body-spirit connection... I am a mid-life "revert" to the Roman Catholic faith in which I was raised and which has become an enormous source of support, encouragement, inspiration, and joy in my life... I am a mom, sister, daughter, and wife... I am an explorer; adventurous and curious about the world and people around me... I am educated in the formal sense but I gain insight through everyday living... I created this blog at a time of great fear and apprehension in my life. I chose to sustain it because of the discoveries about myself and the world around me that it has revealed. What you can expect to find here: the documentation of a love-hate relationship with the greater Philadelphia area
reminiscing about the good-ole-days (the 80's!)
complaints about my various ailments and injuries, both real and imagined
pictures and stories of gardening, decorating, shopping, sewing
my love of irony
links to kooky news stories
way too much scatological musing for sane people
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Friday, March 18, 2005
...like a homemade meatball sub sandwich! (I'll explain later.)
I may not have mentioned it before, but St. Patrick's Day is a big deal around my house, not just because its a pretty huge event in Chicagoland, but because it is, in fact, the anniversary of my first date with hubby.
Back in the day, he and I were friends via some mututal buddies and occasionally hung out at parties, clubs, etc. Then we both wrote and edited articles for a local (now defunct) music magazine. I always liked him because unlike some of the other too-cool-yet-total-slacker guys I knew, he was smart and hard-working (was finishing up his degree in Electrical Engineering at a local and presitigious university.) He was plain-spoken - absolutely no attitude, just honesty. But most of all (what most women love) he was funny, witty, really had a great sense of humor (or at least one compatible with mine.)
I also knew he was shy around women. And I was anything BUT shy around "boys." Extroverted, outgoing, perhaps even bordering on obnoxious (who ME?!)
Long story short, one night mutual friends invited him and me out for dinner at our clique's fave Mexican restaurant. A few margariatas later, we ended up at another bar and the gin-and-tonics (which I bought) loosened his nerve to ask me out on a date for the next evening.
He called at our date time, confirming that he had indeed made plans with me (I started getting a bit irritated) and then showed up at my door sheepishly, dressed incompatibly with the cocktail dress I was wearing (more irritation.) I suggested that I change to a denim skirt and black sweater. Somehow once I got more casually attired, I relaxed a bit more, too.
We went to a restaurant on my street that we both enjoyed because, for 20-somethings, it had kitsch value. It was really an old folks' kind of place, complete with inebrated piano player/crooner, and dinners served with no less than 6 "courses" - a bread basket, relish tray, big kettle of soup, small salad, entree, and mediocre dessert. But we liked it.
We ended up talking much of the evening and into the night. Yadda yadda yadda, 10 years later we have a mortage, 4 pets and a 5 year old kid.
In years past I have cooked up the traditional American celebratory dish of corned beef, cabbage and potatoes. I'd also make a from-scratch Irish Soda Bread. I really do not care for that meal, nor does my daughter. My father-in-law loved it but since he's out of the picture I thought long and hard about what kind of meal to prepare to commemorate not only St. Pat's day but the "10th anniversary."
I found the answer on my trip to Trader Joe's. My family adores the frozen TJ's meatballs. Sounds wierd, but its true - they tase so much like my homemade ones yet are so easy to prepare. Hubby has been begging me to make him a meatball sandwich. I have always argued that daughter and I prefer pasta (low-carb pasta, natch). Well, I decided to get some nice provolone, a gorgeous french roll, and some tangy sauce. I also got a log of fresh, marinated mozzerellla, tons of fresh basil and some half-decent tomatoes.
I put together a wonderful Caprese salad in a pretty serving dish (sliced tomatoes, choped basil, sliced mozzerella, black pepper, salt, extra-virgin olive oil.) I noted that although Italian-american in origin, at least the salad had the colors of the Irish flag: orange-red, green and white! I also made some warm dinner rolls and set out a cruet of olive oil infused with a bit of garlic and parmesan, in which to dip the rolls.
Meanwhile, all day long those meatballs were soaking in the tomato sauce in the crock pot. I hid the entree identity from hubby until, after he finished the salad and rolls, I made the presentation of the much-coveted meatball sub, the roll slightly toasty, the provolone melted on top of the tangy, sauce-drenched meatballs.
He was thrilled. He complimented the entire meal, including the Italian red wine I selected.
I also had some funny cards for hubby and kiddo. They had a good laugh and after dinner we all enjoyed some store-bought green-iced cupcakes.
Hubby is so exhausted each day after work. He's still working 11-hour days and we are still looking for a better opportunity for him. But I am so happy that we were able to slow things down and enjoy a nice meal and some good conversation last night. It reminded me of that first night 10 years ago.
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