Weekend Wonders & Worries...

This weekend my uber-meat-eating boyfriend also known as Jared was in town. Jared and I have been in our long distance relationship for about a year now. Every other weekend he comes to Connecticut and then I go to Virginia. The things we do for love, eh?

So Friday night Jared was due to arrive around 8pm. I got home from work around five thinking that three hours was plenty of time to whip up three of GDL’s dips, clean everything up, get myself cute and be waiting for him, glass of wine in hand. I’m sure you’re bracing for a story of how this all goes terribly wrong and at eight o’clock Jared finds me sweating and crying on my kitchen floor covered in bean dip? But don’t underestimate my determination for perfection!

By 5:15pm, my ingredients are lined up on my counter practically cheering me on. I start with Cheese and Rosemary Bread Sticks. I mix up the cheese filling and unroll my Pillsbury dough (Giada, thank you, thank you, thank you for shortcuts!) I roll about a dozen sticks around the cheese filling, drizzle my rosemary infused-oil over the top and pop in the oven.

On to my first dip in my brand new Cuisinart mini food processor. I combine garlic, chickpeas, lemon juice, salt and pepper, olive oil, sun dried tomatoes and herbs and have a savory spread for toasted baguette slices drizzled with olive oil. My crustinis look like perfectly golden brown sunbathing beauties. The spoonful of dip I sampled was tasty but a little dry (next time more olive oil).

By now, I have cups and cutting boards and cooling crustinis on practically every surface of my tiny kitchen. Even the windowsill holds one of my largest knives (god knows what the neighbors must be thinking!) and it’s already 7pm. I coat some cut up pitas with olive oil, season and throw them in the oven. The last dip gets processed with cannellini beans, parsley, lemon juice, garlic, salt and pepper and of course olive oil.

I call Jared to check in ever so sweetly. He says he’s making great time and that he’s already in Connecticut. Fuck. Jared adorably makes small talk asking how the cooking is going but I’m sweating and scream, “Jared! I’m gross and my kitchen is a disaster! I’ll see you when you get here. Bye!”

I throw my cell into the couch cushions, wipe down the kitchen, wipe down myself and attempt to look cute for my man. Miraculously, at eight o’clock my apartment is sparkling, I have a glass of wine in hand and even time to garnish the dips with lemon zest and fresh parsley. Can I get an amen? Jared and I have a fabulous night. He eloquently rated my cooking as “f-ing delicious!” and I beamed with pride.

By Saturday afternoon Jared decided to read my blog. I know this has been out in the Internet universe for about a week but if I’m totally honest with myself, I believe this may be the first time anyone has actually read my blog. He decides to read it aloud from his iTouch during a car ride to IKEA. It’s unbearable. With each joke that rolls by un-laughed at I die a little inside. In my mind, this blog is funny and clever and cute but coming out of Jared’s mouth it sounds dull and flat and utterly stupid.

Cue meltdown.

What was I thinking? I’m not a cook and I’m not a writer and I can’t believe people are going to actually read this! Who am I to copy a best-selling idea? What will readers think of me? What will my family think of me? And if god-forbid Giada De Laurentiis should ever stumble upon my silly little blog, will she be offended to even be the slightest bit associated with me?

Jared tries his darndest to cheer me up and though I am still terribly self-conscious about this project, I do manage to crack a half smile when he says that he thinks it’s “really cool” that I am writing a blog. And I guess it is kinda cool. People can criticize my cooking or my writing if they want but at the end of the day, this project makes me happy. I’m learning to cook and I suppose learning to write and if this brings me more moments like eight o’clock on Friday night, then I guess it’s all worth it.