Tonight I'm eating dinner alone.
This is actually pretty typical. I'll put June down for bed around 7 o'clock and then I'll pour myself a nice cozy glass of Pinot Noir or more recently a Malbec. And because there is absolutely no sense in cooking for just me, especially after a long day of motherhood, I don't. Instead, I'll eat a cup or two of Goldfish. Or if it's rainy or cold or some times just because, I'll eat a bowl of Ramen Noodles--I love that stuff.
While I was in Detroit last week, I had dinner every night with my in-laws. Steak and asparagus. Spaghetti with meat sauce. Chicken and squash. You get my drift. And the week before that, Tim was home in enough time for us to share dinner: a salad and some 10-minute frozen baggy thing that I threw on the stove, a different one for each night of the week (I like to stir it up every now and then).
Tonight Tim is in Temple, Texas three hours north, at some VA Hospital for his residency program. And I am home alone in the midst of an eerie thunder and lightening storm. I'd usually be grabbing one of those bags of Ramen Noodles right about now, but instead?
Peanuts. Boiled Peanuts. Boiled CAJUN STYLE Peanuts. (You heard me.)
If you've yet to try this delicacy, I urge you to do so immediately if not sooner. They are quite simply, DELISH. That is all.
I about died and went to heaven when I saw the can of Boiled Peanuts (pictured above) in my local H-E-B (indeed, here everything IS better, that can is living proof). I bought every can they had (pretty much).
It brought back so many fond memories... like that one time Tim and I tried to cook our own batch of boiled peanuts from scratch. We nearly burned down his roommate's house. I'm not even exaggerating. We left the pot boiling on the stove while we went to run a quick errand that, living in Destin, quickly turned into a few hours at the beach. We returned to a home that was smothered in dense smoke from the ceiling to about counter-top level. The smell lingered for weeks. So monumental was the peanut boiling incident, that the roommate wrote a poem about it and presented it to us at our wedding.
Now that they're in this neat-o little can, cooking them is a cinch! Fool-proof even!
Just warm them up on the stove.
Peel and eat!