Sunday at home, with potato salad, green bean salad, and fried green tomatoes.

This past Sunday, I cooked.

It was the kind of cooking I haven't done in what feels like a long time, on the kind of Sunday-at-home that I've been missing during weekends away. I slept in. I woke up and puttered around for an hour or two. I washed dishes, I dirtied dishes, I washed them again and dirtied them again. I made simple foods, the kinds that are mixed directly in Tupperware containers and left to meld in their own flavors for a few hours, during which I would wander to the fridge several times from my spot on the couch to pick and taste. I left a fork out on the table for this very purpose.



It's this kind of cooking that I like the best. No complicated recipes or long lists of ingredients. No rush, no schedules or time frames, no real purpose, really.

I made potato salad, not because I needed a dish to bring to a picnic, but simply because I hadn't had any yet this summer and I had this recipe and it was about time.



I made green bean salad because of this photo and this olive oil and because the farmers market was selling green and yellow beans for $1.50 a pound and oh my do I love green beans.




I made fried green tomatoes, just to try something new. I ate a few slices with scrambled eggs for breakfast, then left the rest on the table to pick at while I messed around with the salads.

I wanted to make up for all the weekends away. Summer is funny like that. I spend all winter and spring planning to get out and away, to festivals and lake houses and graduation parties, and once I'm knee-deep in warm weather and road trips, I start to miss the lazy weekends at home.

So on Sunday, I took full of advantage of my free schedule. I cooked -- slowly, simply, happily.

Fried Green Tomatoes
2 medium green tomatoes
1 egg, beaten lightly
1/2 cup dry bread crumbs
1/4 cup vegetable oil

Slice the tomatoes into about 1/2-inch rounds. Set up a small station with the beaten egg in a bowl and the dry bread crumbs on a plate. Dip each slice in the egg to coat, then dredge both sides in the bread crumbs until completely covered. Add more bread crumbs as needed.

Meanwhile, heat the oil in a skillet on medium heat. (I kind of guessed on the above measurement -- be sure there is more than just a light coating and enough to really get those tomatoes good and fried.) When the oil is hot (drop some bread crumbs in to test -- if they sizzle, the oil is probably ready), place the coated tomato slices in the pan and fry each side until golden brown. Set on a paper towel to drain.

ok.

i suppose i don't have to remind anyone of this, but it's really rough out there. and by out there, i mean in life. and in work.



when in just four days, you find out that your cat is suffering from kidney failure and that someone very close to you just lost her job, you start to feel a bit hopeless. vulnerable to the heavy hand of nature and economy, which is throwing punches from every which way.



it's weeks like these when inspiration and motivation begins to deteriorate, and the only thing that seems to bring comfort is a pillow and, if you're lucky, a shoulder.



but if you lift your head up long enough and really look at the big picture, and everything and everyone around you, you start to realize:





It'll be OK. Really. It will.

Happy birthday, Murdo!

To my best friend, the love of my life, and the best sandwich-maker ever.

Cucumber salad.

So I'm planning this wedding. And it's kind of fun, in the I'm-planning-my-wedding-and-I-can-do-whatever-I-want-because-it's-my-WEDDING sort of way. But in other ways, not so much. Like the I'm-planning-my-wedding-but-ohmygod-the-wedding-industry-SUCKS way. Or the I'm-planning-my-wedding-and-you're-charging-me-a-cake-cutting-fee?? way. And especially the I'm-planning-my-wedding-and-I-CAN'T-do-whatever-I-want-because-it's-going-to-cost-an-entire-year's-salary way.

Luckily, I'm not that picky. I can forgo the chocolate fountain and the five-tier cake, and I suppose I could even do without the half-dozen white doves released from their cages as we say "I do." But that doesn't mean I can't still dream about the little things -- my dress, for example, or the first dance, or if it would be weird to use food as centerpieces instead of flowers.

These are the thoughts that consume my spare moments, when in the past I would be thinking of food. Now, instead of browsing through pictures of poached eggs and discovering new recipes on the Web, I'm comparing wedding photographer rates and silently freaking out at the computer screen (This chick's rates start at $3,000? Really? Who are these people?!). Which is why I haven't been too inspired to cook anything lately, which is why I haven't posted anything that I actually made myself since, well...since I got engaged. Holy crap. Have I really gotten by the past two months posting other people's food? Why yes, yes I have.

So I'm offering you this salad. I know, it may not seem like much, but when the money-grubbing wedding industry is getting you down, and when it's 100 degrees outside and all you have in your fridge is a cucumber, this salad is something of a savior. It's sweet and tangy and crunchy and cold and fresh and simple and cheap. Maybe we'll even serve it at the wedding.



Cucumber Salad
I got this recipe from my mom, over the phone, while at the grocery store buying sugar. So keep in mind that these measurements are her rough estimates, and they can be modified to your taste. If you want it less sweet, cut back on the sugar and rice vinegar. If you want a bit more kick, add more vinegar. Make sure you don't slice the cucumber too thinly -- they might get soggy.

1 large cucumber, peeled and sliced
1 small white onion, sliced
1 cup vinegar (1/2 white + 1/2 rice)
2 tsp sugar
salt and pepper

In a large bowl, combine all of the ingredients and stir well to coat the cucumber slices. Store in the fridge overnight, or at least for a few hours before serving.