There are times when I dread the simple question, what’s for dinner. It’s not really what’s for dinner as much as wanting to make something different for dinner. Our taste buds are bored and taste buds should never be bored!
With all the possibilities that food has to offer and all the options each season brings, not knowing what to make for dinner shouldn’t happen—yet it does. Sometimes we just can’t think of anything but our go-to list of recipes that we rotate regularly.
My husband, Mark, recently walked into the kitchen and said, “I’ve got dinner handled tonight.” I was delighted! “What are you going to make?” I asked? “Not to worry,” he replied. “I want to try this recipe from the Internet.” I certainly wasn’t going to argue.
One of the great things about the Internet is, if you sign up for them, recipes arrive directly into your mailbox; they come full of ideas; and when you’re busy that’s great.
Mark made chicken paprika and potatoes from one of the sheet-pan recipes that are popular. It was delicious and different.
Not all recipes are good. I tried one the other night that sounded great. The chicken was marinated in this very flavorful sauce for 24 hours before grilling it on the barbecue. The sauce by itself was so good that we couldn’t wait to taste it. Unfortunately and surprisingly the chicken was bland—so disappointing. Since the sauce, on its own, was so good, I decided to write down the recipe in my kitchen recipe book I’m determined to use it on something else at a later date.
Lately, I’ve been mentally tasting foods, so much so that the other day when I was driving home from visiting my mother, my craving was so strong that I could actually smell the potato leek soup, soupe aux poireaux, pomme de terre, I wanted to make.
Even though I knew Mark had planned to cook pork chops, I stopped and bought the potatoes and leeks I needed for the soup.
When I got home, I started chopping. Then I grabbed my pressure cooker, threw everything in, and set the timer for 15 minutes. Mark entered just as I was opening the cooled pot. “Wow, that smells amazing!” he said. I told him about my craving and added, "We don’t have to eat it tonight but I had to make it."
He pulled out a loaf of French bread he’d picked up at the market and said, “Let’s wait to have the chops tomorrow and have the soup with the bread tonight."
It was delicious—even better than I’d anticipated! And it was just as good when I had it for lunch the next day.
The recipe is so easy and so good that I have to share it.
Soupe aux Poireaux pomme de terre—Leek and potato soup
Prep time 15 minutes
Total time with a pressure cooker 30 minutes
Total time using a stovetop 45 minutes
Ingredients4 large leeks—cut off the green tops and discard
4 potatoes peeled and diced
3 cups chicken broth
3 chicken bouillon cubes low salt
1/2 cup heavy cream or large curd cottage cheese
If you don’t use a pressure cooker, place the ingredients into a pot and bring to a boil, reduce to medium-low, partly cover, and cook for 30 minutes until everything is cooked through.
This soup is delicious served either hot, at room temperature, or cold. Personally, I prefer it at room temperature served with bread.
It is perfect for a hot summer day.
What about you?
Do you have ways you keep dinner exciting every night?
Let us know, I'd love to hear.
Comments will be approved before showing up.
We were invited to join our good friends Pierre and Ellie to renew their wedding vows. Our instructions were to arrive at dawn. We approached the building through a heavy fog, that sat low to the ground making it hard to see where going. Out of that fog, we heard a voice: “Birds, birds, it’s this way.” We spotted a fanciful silhouette, a man wearing a cloak and a hat . . .
2020 is going to be a good year! Of course, I don’t really know that; it’s just a feeling. But I have a choice: I can be optimistic or pessimistic and I don’t see any reason to start off with negative thoughts. “Choose to be optimistic it feels better.” Dalai Lama For years I’ve started the New Year by setting goals... But last year was different! . . .