It’s “nippy” outside. I’ll give it that. It’s not cold, it’s not wintry, it’s not frigid–it’s nippy. At best. But people are FREAKING OUT. They’re throwing Winter Storm Advisories around like they’re tootsie rolls at an underfunded parade, and everyone is bringing out their parkas and worrying about the driving conditions, but it’s mostly just raining. Excuse me, San Antonio, but I’d prefer that you don’t say “Winter Storm Advisory” when it’s not really a winter-style storm. What it is is a less-than-summery drizzle. You are all pussies.
I try to tell people, “this is nothing; you should see Colorado,” but it’s not getting the point across that I’d like. They assume, when I say that, that Coloradoans are basically just really outdoorsy Eskimos. That we live in icy fields dotted with igloos and dogsleds, narwhal trophies hanging above our ice-mantels. All I’m trying to say is that it actually SNOWS in the winter outside of this bunghole city. Colorado gets over 300 days of sunshine a year. It’s warm and gorgeous and you can be outside in the snow without a jacket sometimes because the air near the earth is much warmer than the air 50 feet above, leaving the ground level balmy and delicious while the atmosphere is producing snowflakes. But when we say “Winter Storm Advisory,” we actually are referring to winter storms. And you should probably be advised of such storms, given that sometimes (if you pray and wish really hard) you’ll get snowed in for a couple of days and not be able to go to work or the gym, and possibly your power will go out leaving you no choice but to eat entire pints of ice cream at one sitting to keep them from melting and making a mess. And it’s AWESOME.
Also, how did a land of people so far removed from the chill of real winter determine that it needed a protective layer of blubber? Even in my hometown Eskimo village, we knew that we weren’t the Arctic and didn’t have to bulk up to protect ourselves from hypothermia. Silly Texans.
So I’m all bundled up in my adorable Puma tracksuit, with the heater off and some soup simmering on the stove, trying to pretend that I’m back home and maybe could go outside and make snow tunnels in my new snow outfit, come inside and have some cocoa, go to bed under a million fluffy covers, and then wake up to 70 degrees and the snow melting. Because Colorado is badass like that. I’m homesick.
Yesterday it was so warm here that dinner became “Italian bistro” themed and we drank wine and ate way too much. At least we’ve got diverse opportunities for good eatin’.
I constructed a kind of complicated food structure of the following:
A mozzarella “steak” base
Twisted tri-color linguini tossed in a uber-quick, tasty, and light filetto de pomodoro sauce
Spicy Italian chicken sausage cut on the bias (or “cut on the bayou” per Chris)
Sauteed sweet onions and green peppers
and fresh parmesan-garlic grissini
And then as a special treat we did an almond and cherry chip cannoli for dessert. I had never had a cannoli before, but I thought they were delicious enough to eat half of the filling with a spoon before I managed to put it into the cannoli shells. In my defense, I had to let the chocolate dry before I could fill them. Right? RIGHT??
I love Italian food. As a matter of fact, if I can’t live in Colorado, then my second choice for favorite state is Italy. Don’t try to force your crazy geography ideas on me. Italy is absolutely a state.