Little Hot in the Kitchen

For Jon's birthday, I asked him where he would like to go to eat. He specifically requested that I cook for him.

I have mentioned in previous blog entries that my husband really enjoys cooking. He has made a hobby out of it and has catered a couple of events now. So he does a lot of the cooking around our house too. I handle the simple meals - like spaghetti, goulash, Spanish rice, pot roast (basically all the meals I ate growing up) and he does the more adventurous cooking.

So when he made this request, I asked him which meal he wanted - Spanish rice or goulash?? He said he wanted a special meal, like I used to make for him back when we were dating/first married (you know - the time when you are trying to impress the man you love).

I researched some recipes because I am a by-the-book recipe girl. If the recipe calls for 1/2 cup of olive oil, then I use a measuring cup and put it in. None of this "eyeball it" stuff. I figure that whoever was testing the recipe originally put 1/2 cup for a reason, so who am I to question that?

So I came up with an Italian menu for my sweetie: Bruschetta, followed by Chicken Scallopine (chicken stuffed with fontina cheese and sage, covered with a tomato sauce) and Caesar Salad. For dessert, I kept it simple since Jon is not big into sweets. I made Tollhouse chocolate chip cookies with milk (his favorite).

The cooking went okay. I diced about a million tomatoes for the bruschetta, but no sliced fingers or anything. I minced garlic and pounded chicken. It was like I really knew how to cook or something. But then I had an accident in the kitchen.

It was right about the time that my husband was asking if he could help with anything that it happened. I was adding my cooking wine to the already heated olive oil when a big bubble of oil exploded all over my face. No major injury, just some stinging, but I have to say my spirits were somewhat dampened by this. Was this an indication of how things were going to go?

But everything turned out fine. The dinner (by my husband's declaration) was delicious and we really enjoyed sitting at the dining room table and talking, while Frank Sinatra sang in the background. JD hung out with us and entertained us with a new giggle that he was trying out.

It was a memorable evening - even if part of the memory was temporary blindness from flying grease.