A Moment of Silence…

Dinner was so good.

It was all the better because it was so impromptu. Not that what I’d been planning was so bad, just that what replaced it was heaven.

I had some ingredients that needed to be used up (pattypan squash and a large heirloom tomato). Then I made an abrupt decision to pick up a few groceries. I had planned to wait a day or two, but we were low on milk and if I had to get that, then I may as well get the rest. I’m sure you understand.

So at the store, I decide it’s time we had some fish. I could cook it tomorrow. At the fish counter, they are setting out lovely salmon steaks that happen to be on sale. That settled, I check out and head for home.

At some point, I remember we’re having dinner with my daughter and son-in-law tomorrow, at their place (their new, first-owned place, isn’t that cool?). Which means, oh I’m not cooking the fish tomorrow.

I am not freezing fresh, wild-caught salmon steaks. I must cook them tonight.

So… I broiled the salmon, after brushing it with olive oil and adding a bit of salt and pepper. Simple. I threw a couple of potatoes in the microwave (I know. Not the preferred method for baked potatoes, but when dinner is impromptu, exceptions must be made).

I considered sauteeing the squash, but inspiration said to slice them (they were big), brush them with oil and add them to the same pan the fish were on.

So I did (with a little salt).

Then I made a white-wine-butter sauce with scallions.

Do you see how this is coming together?

Dinner was served with a Mondavi 2009 Private Collection Chardonnay. This sounds much more impressive than it is, but there’s no doubt it’s a very decent wine.

Oh, and the crowning touch?

Well, I’m not one of those people who keep sour cream on hand. We don’t eat enough of it, so I only buy it when I need it for a recipe or I know we’re having baked potatoes. Since tonight was impromptu, I didn’t know about the potatoes ahead of time. But I did have some blue cheese in the frig. I won’t tell you what kind, because if you know about it, you will scream, either with jealousy, or with fury that I would waste it on nuked baked potatoes.

Oh, all right. It was Cowgirl Creamery’s Humbolt Fog.

I know. That stuff is the nectar of the gods and it should only be eaten in private, preferably naked, and with someone you utterly adore. I got two out of three.

And it didn’t hurt the potatoes a bit.

But wait. You know the second-best part?


See, I couldn’t eat all my salmon or all my potato. So breakfast (for both of us since there’s enough leftover) will consist of a salmon-potato-Humbolt Fog-frittata, with whole wheat toast. And a sliced heirloom tomato, because even though you’ve forgotten about it, I haven’t. It needs to be eaten before age takes its toll.

Thank you for your attention. This moment of silence is now over. Go in peace, my children.

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