Last night we had friends over for dinner, a rare event here. We had a hell of a nice time at it, we really did. Both of us usually dread social engagements just a bit more than dental surgery, but last night was a real pleasure.
I tried my hand at paella. Chiringuito seafood paella from a recipe in the LA times.
All that seafoody goodness: calamari and clams, Argentine red shrimp, thick, flaky cod, a couple of andouille sausages for good measure, and then all cooked up in a big pan with saffron-infused arborio rice. And here was the kicker for me- garlicky allioli to top it off and lend its creamy richness to an already rich meal. Add a mixed green salad of pickled onions, pomegranate seeds, feta cheese, balsalmic vinaigrette. Add crusty seeded baguette. Add Ezra’s asparagus (WOOT! Thanks, dude! That stuff rocks.) Add a couple of good bottles of lusty, over-the-top reds. Add good conversation, real conversation, with good friends.
Add watching Lucy jump up on the coffee table and eat the cheese plate.
|“Believe what you like. I’m taking the fifth.”|
So, the picture at the top is not how it looked last night. The picture at the top is how it looked for brunch this morning.
Fuck me running, it were good.
All that seafood and garlic and the fresh, sharp bite of the pickled onions and cucumbers, the crusty bread, and hot, dark coffee and a whole day of nothing else ahead of us but lounging around watching Netflix and napping out in the studio?
Well, it just doesn’t get any better.