Summer showed up in the first week of June the way it does - windows open all day, the kitchen five degrees warmer than the rest of the house, the herbs on the sill doing something new every morning. I cooked through the whole week anyway. It’s a tick I have. Warm weather does not stop me from making pasta.
Monday was chicken parmesan, but the lighter cousin - pan-fried instead of baked, still dusted with parmesan when it came off the pan, roasted potatoes and a few asparagus spears on the side because the asparagus at the farmer’s market was finally worth buying. My husband said it tasted like spring refusing to leave. He does get poetic after one glass of wine.
Tuesday was blackened salmon on cilantro-lime rice - one of those plates I make when I’m trying to remind myself that a single piece of fish on a bed of rice is, actually, a real dinner. Plenty of lime. Half a bunch of cilantro torn in at the end. Done in twenty minutes.
Wednesday the fish got another turn: teriyaki-glazed over sesame lo mein with scallions and seeds. I bought too many scallions at the start of the week and this was my third plan to use them.
Thursday I had one of those afternoons where I wanted to cook something that took a little longer than a weeknight. Stuffed shells it was - ricotta, a meat sauce I let go low for an hour, garlic bread because garlic bread is the correct move. We ate two shells each and saved the rest for lunch the next day, which is the real win.
Friday was orange chicken, craggy and glossy, over rice. Saturday was mongolian beef with bok choy and mushrooms, the kind of plate where the whole pan turns shiny at the last minute. Both of those nights we ate on the couch because there was a movie on.
Sunday I tried a pork chop in a dijon-thyme cream with halved brussels crisped up with bacon and baby potatoes. That one surprised me. I wasn’t expecting the mustard to hit like that. I’ve thought about it twice since, which means I’ll be making it again.
And then - the way these weeks always end - I fried chicken tenders and made a big pot of cavatappi mac and cheese, because my husband had one specific request and I owed him. He ate it with a fork and his thumb, like always.
Not a fancy week. The kind of week I like.
