The Elephant in the Room

last call

As of yesterday, Mike is no longer involved with Cook & Brown. We’re not sure what’s in store for him next, but as always, I will be right by his side, cheering him on in whatever he pursues. I remain incredibly proud of him for fearlessly taking on a role in an industry he had no previous experience in, and for all of the hard work and long hours he put in over the last few months to help get the restaurant up and running.

Many thanks to those of you who reached out to us with words of support and encouragement – they mean more than you know. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to make my barman some dinner.


Rainy Days and Mondays

morels on toast

The restaurant has only been open a week, but they have been busy every single night. It’s a good problem to have, I’m sure, but it has made for some long days and very late nights for my husband, and some bleary-eyed morning commutes for this restaurant widow. I was incredibly happy to have Mike home on Monday and to fix him a special dinner (complete with wine poured from an actual bottle), but as delicious as our starter of sauteed morels and main course of yogurt-marinated roast lamb loin were, I could barely bring myself to eat much of either.

I’ve actually been struggling to get myself to eat anything these days. I’m not sure if it’s caused by this persistent case of the blues, the crummy weather, the fact that I can not bear to look at one more runny egg or package of pasta in my kitchen, or something else. I’ve all but given up on breakfast. Lunches have been hastily gobbled, and more often than not abandoned midway through. I stood at the refrigerator when I got home from work last night trying desperately to figure out what to make myself for dinner, but I came up blank – no appetite, no inspiration.

With shaking hands I tore off a nub of pita and scooped up a bite of Shayma‘s wonderful (and contest-winning) Borani, followed that with a chunk of a cold, roasted creamer potato left from Monday night, then a dab of chevre and a slug of Bandit, and then I sat at the kitchen table watching the rain, counting the hours until next Monday. It can’t come soon enough.

Restaurant Widow

Dinner: March 18, 2010

This dinner for one brought to you by the serendipitous discovery of leftover cooked pasta, a conveniently open jar of Poblano Farm pasta sauce, the end of a log of olive butter, and a whisper of freshly grated Pecorino Romano. And then (as a wise woman once said), “we crack an egg on top.”

Fried pasta with egg is one of my favorite things to eat when I’m dining alone, and it was just what I needed to help me feel a little less blue. I promise to try a little harder once I’ve got the fridge and pantry re-stocked this weekend.