There is no better measure of my worth than people coming through my front door when they are hungry. Last night was dinner on Stowe Lane, I was cooking. As it turns out we were all a bit subdued, with the exception of Kathy. She was chatty and amusing and full of vigor. We were tired from the day. It was a delicious farmer’s market meal. Simply cooked and enjoyed by all.
Tonight was dinner on Stowe Lane because Muriel could not eat chicken and vegetables one more night.
My father used to say the same thing…chicken again?
I was making myself a personal pizza with a delicious pre- made crust, unheard of in Martina’s world, and there they were coming through my door. I love that no one rings my bell, they just walk right in. My immediate question, “Did you eat?” their answer?
No.
An assembly line is born. Bring out the sauce, the cheeses both mozzarella and parmigiano reggiano, ricotta, prosciutto, roasted tomatoes with garlic, oregano, mushrooms, and let us begin.
Pour the wine, wait for the oven to do its job and dinner on Stowe Lane is complete. How do you know, you can smell the garlic and the prosciutto getting crispy on each individual pizza.
Sitting, laughing, a glass of red, cleaning up and they are gone. But not without leaving behind a house that is happy and smells delicious.
Life on Stowe Lane is very good.
Sounds delicious. So many of the best moments in life are not planned. Love how you make the ordinary moments extraordinary. Thanks for sharing!
Wish we lived a lot closer to you! Sounds like a perfect meal. George has been working on his own pizza dough for months now and it never turns out…Even when it is not that good I keep telling him it is getting better.
Next time you are here we want a lesson!!!!!!!!!
Love you,
Ki