the macaron diaries: adventures in domesticity

some people, perhaps a lot of people, are under the delusion that i can cook. i'm not sure where they get this idea (perhaps because i eat a lot, which means my taste buds are developed, or because i won some school cooking competition in the past, which really had nothing to do with cooking) but anyways, i'm not just being a prototypically humble chinese chef who denigrates her own culinary abilities for the sake of lowering expectations only to blow them out of the water -- i'm being honest when i say that i really don't think i can cook.

anyways, a few weeks ago, for some crazy reason i suggested making dinner together with le garçon and he happily agreed, probably supposing that i had some secret giada de laurentiis double identity in the kitchen just waiting to spring forth.

as i walked to whole foods, where we were to meet and pick up the ingredients for dinner, i frantically called my mother, telling her about my predicament and begging for advice. what do i cook?? holy effing crap what if i destroy the kitchen???! she gave some pretty excellent tips that i hadn't thought of: ask what he likes, and then design a menu. "fish is easy! so is chicken!" she rattled off ideas. hmm, i think easy would be pouring cereal into a bowl, but okay.

we scoured the perimeter of whole foods, looking for things we liked. salmon piqued our fancy, and so did the idea of a very fresh salad with watermelon and feta. and for dessert, i decided to be ambitious, eyeing the gorgeous purple plums on display and deciding to make a rustic tart from scratch, with ice cream on the side.

back at home i coated the salmon in evoo, sprinkled it with salt and pepper, and flopped it into the pan. ridiculously loud hissing noises and scary oil splatters everywhere sent me cowering on the other side of the kitchen, every so often inching closer to the stove and prodding the filets with a spatula.

"you're doing a great job!" he reassured (bless him). i winced, clutching the spatula as if it were a shield between the stove and i. (i have to admit i was kinda more worried at that point about destroying my clothes with oil than about how the food was going to turn out.)

completely butchering one of the filets and destroying its photographic potential by smooshing it in half, i determined that the salmon was just the right shade of pink to serve. we plated it, serving it with slices of lemon and quinoa (courtesy of whole foods' salad bar) on the side.

how'd it turn out? flipping FANTASTIC. the skin was perfectly slightly crisped, the meat was moist and flaked at the gentle touch of a fork, the creamy mild flavour perfectly accented with salt and pepper (and sips of white). simple, fresh, and delicious.

spinach, watermelon, feta, sliced almonds, and a bit of balsamic make an excellent salad.

by the time we finished eating i was so drained from the ordeal of making dinner that i couldn't imagine getting up and preparing a tart from scratch. haagen dazs to the rescue, along with dark chocolate and strawberries. simplicity is perfect.