Cookin'

You can 100% tell that I have something important

(a) that I need to do, and
(b) that I completely don't want to do.

How can you tell?  Because I am cooking and cleaning like a madwoman.  There has to be something else I should be doing!

I wasn't sure if Maine would even let me sit for the bar exam, so between my crazy work schedule and not wanting to exert even the minimal energy required to read as much as one bar-exam-related sentence, I told myself I would start studying July 1 regardless of whether I'd heard.

Naturally, I got the news Friday that I could take the exam, and today is Monday, July 1.

[insert bad words here]

If you are not familiar with what this is, first of all -- God bless you.  Second of all, it's one of twelve two-inch-thick study guides.  This is the one I'm starting with, which breaks down all the major tested areas for Maine.  I have tabbed the book by content area and that helps me to find stuff, of course, but also (importantly) to visualize what I've done and where I need to be.  Which really should be Disney World, but we'll take "prepared" as a second-best answer.

[Dislaimer: If you're a member of the Character and Fitness Committee, let me offer this statement:  I want to take and pass the bar exam, and I want to be able to practice here in Maine.  I just have a stomach full of bricks as far as studying goes. After all, it's been four full years since I thought about any of this.  I had to remind myself today what the Statute of Frauds is. Here's to hoping that it's like riding a bike, and I get back in the groove quickly.]

Mick was out of the house this morning and so naturally, I half studied and half found other ways to occupy my time.

No, they did not involve alcohol.

(They do now, though.  It's after dinner; I think that's fair.)

I cooked!

For lunch, I whipped up a pasta carbonara that was amaaaaaaazing.

bacon, sweet new peas, freshly grated parmesan, roasted red and yellow grape tomatoes, and did I mention bacon?

The pictures look awful*, but trust me:  I will have dreams about the bacon-y, cheese-y, roasted-tomato-y sweet pea-y deliciousness that was today's lunch.  And yes, I really did just "whip it up" -- the whole thing took me only as long as it took to cook the vermicelli!

Then for dinner, WHM wanted be-getti again.  (For those of you playing along and thinking that's because the poor kid was starving because he didn't eat a darn thing all day, you win!  He didn't eat his begetti for lunch so of course he wanted it again for dinner.  Also, the poor kid was starving because when he doesn't eat his real meals I withhold all snacks.  The kid would be perfectly content to live on Teddy Grahams and "canola bars," and I don't abide that nonsense.  Fortunately, it was a dreary rainy chilly Maine day, so I was 100% up for a double-pasta day.)

So I got to cooking, and what started out as a regular red sauce ("gravy," if you're reading, Grandma), struck me as a little too lackluster.  Before I knew it, I was making a puttanesca.  What's for dinner, you ask?  Rigatoni puttanesca -- and I NAILED IT!

If you know me, you know that I love, love, LOOOOOVE puttanesca sauce.  Not that I have tried too many times, but I've never been successful in making it -- there was always something missing.  No saltiness from olives.  The wrong pepper.  Not enough spice.  No capers.  Tomatoes that tasted like the can they came from.  Also there was always a restaurant dangerously close that I could convince Mick was a good option for dinner that night. 

Not tonight, kids.

Tonight, I broke out the big guns and used San Marzano tomatoes, olives, red pepper flakes, and capers (along with the regular players) and let me tell you: I HIT GOLD!

I am so excited!!!

No, the kids didn't eat the sauce.

And no, I didn't think to take a picture of give a play-by-play.  This was a "let's see if I can finally get this right" kind of night.

I finally did!

So now, I celebrate with some w(h)ine as I sit back down with my bar exam study book. 

--Jen

*they were cell phone snapshots taken solely to torture my sister and father.  I'm cool like that.

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