Are you in the mood to hear about some nice things? (Please tell me you just shouted “YES!” out loud. If you didn't, perhaps examine your emotional state? Maybe pour yourself a glass of wine? Oh, it’s only 10 AM, you say? Have it with a piece of buttered baguette and call it a “French breakfast”, I suspect you need it.)
- These dresses, made in the UK by a Ghanaian designer, are so wildly beautiful that I’m tempted to buy a few despite having absolutely nowhere to wear them. I particularly love this red striped shirtdress, this blue batik-printed maxi dress, and this one-shoulder situation which also comes in blue.
-Three words: creamy. feta. sauce. More on that below.
-I am about 8 years behind the times here, but have you seen the movie The Perks of Being a Wallflower? I haven’t felt so moved by a film in a long time (unless you count watching When Harry Met Sally for the first time the other week and finally now being able to understand the Meg-Ryan-in-the-deli scene reference). This movie is good—like, make your heart ache good. I wanted to inhabit it; it made me remember so acutely the intensity of emotion you have at that high school age.
-Just watched the episode of Chef’s Table BBQ on Australian chef Lennox Hastie and it is so fascinating, not to mention richly and beautifully filmed. Saying it’s “an episode about a barbecue chef” does not do it justice, so you can watch the trailer here.
-Listening to Rainbow Rowell’s novel Fangirl (which I’ve already read twice) on audiobook while I do things like make dinner and fold the laundry. It’s so comforting and so incredibly well-written; she’s an unusually great author because her characters are so real and nuanced and sincere, it’s as if they’re living right there next to you. (She makes otherwise ordinary sentences feel like you’re living them instead of reading them. For example, “Sometimes writing is running downhill, your fingers jerking behind you on the keyboard the way your legs do when they can't quite keep up with gravity. Cath fell and fell, leaving a trail of messy words and bad similes behind her.” or “She hated the way he passed out smiles to everyone he met like it didn't cost him anything, like he'd never run out.”)
-Pro tip: Next time you do a hard workout, you should probably put this song on loud.
-Please skip past this one if you don’t A. have a baby or B. need to buy a baby gift sometime soon. If either apply to you, I love love love these striped cotton clothes, especially the kimono ones that are particularly easy to snap on and off, and these incredibly soft outfits (which I desperately would like to own in an adult size).
-This poem by Katrina Vandenberg:
I’m not making this up. In Cafe Latte’s wine bar
one of the lovely coeds at the next table
touched John on the arm as if I wasn’t there
and said, Excuse me, sir, but what
is that naughty little dessert?
And I knew from the way he glanced
at the frothy neckline of her blouse,
then immediately cast his eyes on his plate
before giving a fatherly answer,
he would have given up dessert three months
for the chance to feed this one to her.
I was stunned; John was hopeful;
but the girl was hitting on his cake.
Though she told her friend until they left
she did not want any. I wish she wanted
something—my husband, his cake, both at once.
I wish she left insisting
upon the beauty of his hands, his curls,
the sublimeness of strawberries
and angel food. But she was precocious,
and I fear adulthood is the discipline
of being above desire, cultivated
after years of learning what you want
and where and how, after insisting
that you will one day have it. I don’t
ever want to stop noticing a man like the one
at the bar in his loosened tie, reading
the Star Tribune. I don’t want to eat my cake
with a baby spoon to force small bites,
as women’s magazines suggest. And you
don’t want to either, do you? You want a big piece
of this world. You would love to have the whole thing.
God, God, I love that poem. I want to live into it. To not stop noticing a man at the bar (so to speak); to not eat my cake with a baby spoon in small bites. I’d like a big piece of the world, too.
If you want to feed a voracious, metaphorical hunger for the world, might as well start with an actual, real, physical hunger and make dinner!
Creamy Feta Pasta
3/4 cup (85g) crumbled feta cheese
1/2 cup (113g) Greek yogurt
5 tablespoons olive oil, divided
One 4-ounce can mild green chiles, drained
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 lemon, juiced
pinch of cayenne (optional, if you like more heat)
10 ounces fresh or dried pasta (I recommend a long noodle, like fettuccine)
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 medium zucchini, cut into half moons
1 cup cherry tomatoes
1 cup vegetable broth (low sodium, otherwise reduce the salt)
1 cup fresh or frozen peas
handful of fresh parsley, roughly chopped
Combine the feta, yogurt, 3 tablespoons of olive oil, chiles, salt, lemon juice, and cayenne (if using) in a blender or food processor. Pulse until the sauce is smooth. If it’s very thick, add a tablespoon of water. It shouldn’t be liquidy, but it should be runnier than yogurt.
Bring a large pot of salted water to boil.
While the water boils, heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a large skillet.
Add the garlic, zucchini, and tomatoes and cook for about 4 minutes, stirring occasionally over medium heat, until the zucchini and tomatoes soften.
The water should be boiling now—add your pasta and cook until just shy of al dente (about 3 minutes for fresh pasta or 9 minutes for dried pasta).
While the pasta cooks, add the vegetable broth to your skillet and continue to cook until the pasta is ready.
When the pasta is ready, use tongs to transfer it into the skillet (don’t drain the pasta—the extra water is good!).
Turn off the heat, add the peas and the feta sauce and toss everything together in the hot skillet.
Just before serving, add the parsley.