Sometimes it rains and you run out to class wearing canvas shoes and your toes end up squelching through the rest of the day.
Sometimes, even though you left the house ten minutes early, traffic is a headache and you end up walking into biology trying to be a sneaky as possible.
Sometimes it clearly doesn't work and everyone stares at you.
Sometimes a mediocre and limp turkey wrap the size of a cigar costs $6.50 and you have to dole out change in pennies at the cafeteria cash register.
Sometimes the fridge overhead light overheats and you have to unplug the the entire unit and look forward to not having cold milk for breakfast tomorrow.
I didn't have a bad day. Nope. But I had a "eh" day and that means it certainly wasn't a good day.
But when a pat of butter hits a hot skillet and you hear that well known sizzle, things start to look up.
I don't know if I'm a weirdo, (Ha, take that back. I totally know. I'm the weirdest.) but the sound of sizzling butter makes me feel so much better about life. It can mean so many things...
Pancakes (life always looks better when there are pancakes in the near future, don't you think?)
The beginnings of a gravy or a roux,
Fried Potatoes, (I'm starting to crave a second breakfast now...)
Today it meant Mushrooms and Sausage. I'm not sure if I'm the only person who breaks out pots and pans to make a hot lunch at 3:30 in the afternoon, but it feels like it. It's like a secret meeting with your best friends. (Yes. I'm friends with butter and pasta, aren't you? No? Let me introduce you...) I don't usually post dinner or lunch recipes, because I honestly don't usually have them. I'm the type of person that when I bake, I measure impeccably. Obsessively, even. But when I cook, all restraint goes out the window and I throw things together at random like a mad scientist. I have the kitchen equivalent of a gardeners green thumb, and by that I mean I'm super lucky that most of the time my crazy bubbling concoctions end up tasting pretty good. I guess I just never think of them as recipes since they aren't premeditated. But I'm doing what every mad scientist should do: I'm documenting my success in written form. (aka: recipes)
Sausage and Mushrooms with Pasta
Three to five large button mushrooms, sliced
1/2 lb (about two links) of Andouille Chicken Sausage, sliced
Two tablespoons chopped fresh chives
1 clove garlic, crushed
4 tablespoons butter
2 Servings of cooked Angel Hair Pasta
Grated Asiago or Parmesan cheese for topping
In a hot skillet, melt two tablespoons of the butter and add garlic. Add the mushrooms and cook on medium heat until soft. Add the chives and sausages, cooking until browned. Add to your hot cooked pasta the remaining butter, the cooked sausage and mushrooms, and top with grated cheese.