This evening we made variation number three of the pasta with meatballs recipe; Sausage Meatballs with Peppers, Onions, and a Side of Penne. If you really wanted to be picky, you could take issue with the title- the pasta is no more a side dish than it was yesterday or the day before. This is meatballs and pasta, that’s what’s for dinner. Anyway, essentially, the meatballs were made with ground pork and cheese with fennel, red pepper flakes and allspice. The recipe called for extra olive oil in the mixture which would have been ridiculous. Without the egg and breadcrumbs, these meatballs were like little burgers or sausages, neither of which need any extra fat as a rule. When we took these out of the oven there was literally a river of fat running off each one. Nice. We may have to clean out the new oven already, which is not the most enticing of prospects. The pasta sauce included cubanelle and bell peppers tonight. Unfortunately, the sauce was about as dull as pasta can be. It was pleasant enough, in as much as there was nothing wildly wrong or right with it, but really it was pretty bland.
I’m finding it increasingly strange that people are wishing me luck with the baby birthing thing and giving me big hugs and insisting on buying my coffee and cake. Strange, but I’m not complaining, I hasten to add. All pampering is good pampering, as a rule. As I’m still in an advanced state of denial, it seems odd that other people are excited for the birth. We tend to keep our baby names a secret, but of course A knows what her little sister will be called. One of the staff at daycare asked A what the baby would be called, and she told them. It was funny to hear someone else say the name out loud. Still it’s a better name than “Grandpa” which is what one of the other kids suggested. Maybe that could be our backup name if all the ultrasounds are proved wrong.
Tomorrow we begin a four day run of mushroom recipes with Mixed Wild Mushroom Sauté on Toast Points with Gruyere. That post-delivery pizza is sounding more and more enticing by the day. It’s like getting time off for good behaviour.