Tonight I got a package in the mail from my uncle in France. It had a container of pate, a jar of mirabelle jam, a bottle of ricqules and some chocolate. Suddenly, I was inspired for dinner.
We put together a spinach and arugula salad, and had that along with a plate of pate and brie. I tried Pillsbury french baguette in a tube, which actually wasn't bad. Maybe not fantastic, but not bad. A pretty simple meal, but a tasty one. The pate has such a richness, an unctuousness that is almost over the top... it's a bit dirty and sinful, in a way that just adds to the fun.
When I told my mom what we were having, she told me how when she was single, she and her roommate would sometimes get a baguette and a camembert and make sandwiches, of a sort, and call that dinner. Mmmmmmmmmh.
My darling husband and I have a rule that we established when we started living together: two side dishes make a meal. Sauteed green beans? Not a meal. Sauteed green beans and corn on the cob? There you go! We've been known to make some strange dinners, but it works because we are, for the most part, on the same page, food-wise. I'm lucky he's adventurous and willing (even if I grumble that he won't try oysters on the half shell). There are plenty of people out there who turn up their noses at anything unfamiliar, from artichokes to muscles, duck to sushi, escargot to soft cheeses, steak tartare to okra, cured meats to andouille sausage. These aren't every day foods for us, but I like that he can appreciate them the way I do. Come to think of it, he didn't like soft cheeses when I first met him. I wonder what changed his mind?