There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home.
We are finally settling into our new digs. What an ordeal! Yesterday, I was so discombobulated I locked myself out of the new place on my way to clean the old apartment. (I highly recommend the good folks at Pop A Lock.) Plus, I lost my cell phone charger and we can't quite master the cable/sound system puzzle.
Yeah, yeah. Well, it's called "Whining" and dining.
So, naturally I had been thinking about what to cook for the first meal in the new house. Something special. I wanted to take my time in my wonderful new kitchen, which has a huge pantry and a built-in wine fridge. Freaking dee-luxe.
But it didn't work out that way. After hubby and strapping nephew Nick did all the heavy lifting, they needed some grub, stat. I threw something together: gumbo made from a Zatarin's mix that I kicked up a notch with andouille sausage, shrimp and lots of Frank's Red Hot sauce. Sitting over steaming bowls of the spicy stew, nobody said a word. We were too tired and hungry. It turned out to be a memorable first meal after all.
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1 comment:
As I told John, I'm impressed that after moving you had the energy (and could find dishes, plates, forks, etc.) to cook! Last time I moved I took the volunteers out for lunch afterwards.
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