Italian sans tomato

This one is from the archives, as you can see it was taken on our $10 Ikea plastic table that doubled for dinning table at our old shoe box, ahem, place.
If you've been following the news you've surely seen the recent outbreak of salmonella due to---of all things holy---tomatoes. And in an ever unsurprising response to such news what do American tomato growers do? Why, they send them to Mexico, of course. Sorry, I'm not going to get on my soapbox but I will say that if we were all able to eat locally grown food this kind of thing would not be such a big deal.

Back to the task at hand. My favorite food, before the bizarro pregnant aversion to chicken set in around month 2, was stuffed chicken. I do a fake out stuffed chicken where I really just slice the breast in half, stuff in the selected fillings and use a toothpick to hide the evidence!

So easy and so delicious, this is my version of Chicken Saltimbocca over creamy corn risotto:

Chicken Saltimbocca over Creamy Corn Risotto

My favorite little Italian restaurant in Soho was recently rendered obsolete. (e.g., like us they could no longer afford the rents in our fine city and were told to take a hike). This took such a shock on my palate that I think my heart missed a beat when in the window I read a handwritten sign proclaiming:

"Thank you for your patronage for the past 25 years, it has been our pleasure to serve you"

The end of an era, and my most beloved dish, the saltimbocca. That plate full of papardelle nooddles smothered in sliced mushrooms with sauteed proscuitto, sage, and chicken, swimming in a light marsala type sauce of pure heaven. My only hope is that they might open an outpost here in Brooklyn, fat chance, but a girl can dream.

My version is much simpler than the amazing original. I don't dare replicate it for fear of utter failure. But this saltimbocca has all the key ingredients with a few small surprises and sits beautifully on a pile of creamy risotto when I haven't had time to roll out some homemade papardelle, HA!

(Follow the link under the photo for the recipe if you are so inclined. And no, it's not kosher!)

Watching the ships roll by, and thinking through seaweed...

This week in development Baby P has decided to give Becks a run for his money...on my bladder. Sorry if that's too much detail but since I have to deal with it I thought I would share the love with you too =)

Can you even deal with the cuteness of this mug? (Or how incredible technology has become?)

We have been cooking up a storm in the new place and I would love to share photos if G and I weren't too busy trying to dig through 7 years of things to find our camera. I will try and be better but can't really make promises since right now my whole world seems upside down.

Today's post will be a first for me...as it will be a post from the heart. I am much better at satire and recipes, if not more comfortable. But in honor of truly documenting this miraculous (and crazy) journey, I have to let my emotions out somewhere and this seems about as good a place as any.

When I was little one of my favorite quotes was "there are big ships and little ships but the best ship is friendship." And then I grew up. Or rather life happened. I've been watching ships sail by for years now. People seem to have a way of disappointing you if you expect too much I suppose.

But now I find myself in this precarious spot in my life. A crossroads where, yet again, we are the first couple to take the next step in this case to have a child. And I feel so alone. There is no one there who has taken this journey, no one who can tell me what to pack for this trip or share in this rollercoaster of emotions. Sure, there is enough information online to fill the Red Sea but where are those anecdotes that we aren't supposed to listen to but really come in handy when you are embarking on such scary and exciting adventures? Yes, we are taking a 'birth class' with a bunch of lovely tree hugging, anti-drug, amazingly strong and incredible people. But none of them are "friends".

And that leads me to my first issue. The one of the ships sailing by.... Lots of ships. It happened when we were the first to get married. The supposed life long friends who fell off the earth when they had to share me with a husband and listen to more important issues than which pointy toe heels matched my seven jeans (And yes, I did wear jeans back in the day). It makes me sad that as the years go by the supposed friends I've chosen turn out to be more consumed by themselves then anything else. Maybe it's me who has changed and they've been the same all along...

So there you go. The hormones are raging and I find myself sad and scared and feeling all the while a bit alienated in our cute new home, so very far from transportation and friends and almost too large to wobble down the street with Lola.

But don't let me mislead you, whoever you are! The sight of the little face in that ultrasound makes it all worth while. Spoiled? Please. This little boy doesn't have a chance!

And now for the seaweed portion of this post. If I haven't lost you thus far let me complain about my charmed life, and some more fun side effects of pregnancy, a bit more. It seems as if my once sharp mind has crumbled into oblivion. Oh sure, when it comes to researching the safest car seat, pram, and 5 point harness carrier I'm your gal. But writing a simple 30 page review on a topic of my choosing which was once a delicious and exciting adventure? Forget it. Seaweed. Pregnancy is like thinking through seaweed. And my mind is laden with the stuff. Swimming through the stuff in my mind is truly defeating. And fear of disappointing myself and my respected advisor (yes, I really like the guy) is the cherry on the sprinkles on the icing on the cake. Mmmmm, cake.

I told you it was distracting!

The evolutionary advantage of such distractions is that I'm sure to get everything done for Baby P before he arrives. Now if I could only guarantee that he'll help me write once he gets here...