Cooking With Angela/Cooking With Abandon (Same Thing!)

My dear friend Angela (gifted graphic artist and phenomenal cook) made a piece of art for me for my birthday this year inscribed with the message “Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all,” quoting Harriet Van Horne.

Now, knowing Angela’s borrowed philosophy (to which I can personally assure you, she has made a 110% commitment), hang on for the ride while I tell you about the meal we created and shared just a couple of Saturdays ago.

A while back we were having this conversation about food (that’s no surprise, most of our conversations are about food and even the conversations that don’t start about food, somehow, always end up in the kitchen.) Angela was describing in loving detail the liberties she takes with the traditional fettuccini alfredo format. (It involves half & half in lieu of heavy cream, a hint of garlic and a mountain of cheeses beyond the classic Parmigiano-Reggiano). My immediate response was, wow, that would be great with the Barefoot Contessa’s Parmesan Chicken (http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/parmesan-chicken-recipe/index.html ). Then Angela, added “you know, my cheesy garlicky (or is garlicky cheesy) bread would be awesome with that. We really should get together and make this meal.” Yep, looks like we had ourselves a menu and ya’ll know how I feel about that kind of invitation (http://kitchen-loulou.blogspot.com/2010/07/jarrod-me.html ).

With a designated Saturday marked our respective calendars we were all but counting the days until we would cook and feast. I happened to have a package of Basil Fettuccini on had that I’d purchased on a whim at a culinary shop in a neighboring town; I’d been saving it, but I didn’t know for what until we started planning this menu. When our chosen Saturday finally rolled around we cranked up the 70s station on Music Choice and decided it was time to cook. With French rolling pin in hand, my sweet husband pounded the boneless skinless chicken breasts to the requisite ¼” with unparalleled enthusiasm. He cheerfully turned them over to me for and retired the rolling pin for the evening. I commenced prepping for the Parmesan Chicken with Angela worked her magic with the bread (Angela, if you’re reading this, would you be so kind as to enlighten folks as to exactly what all went into that topping for the baguette. I believe I recall cream cheese, butter, pub cheese, minced garlic and possibly/probably some other cheeses. The aroma from this mixture before it even went onto the bread and into the oven was positively intoxicating. People, seriously, you want to try this at home, trust me.)

You know how some nights everything is just perfect? This was one of those nights. The weather had been gloriously perfect all day so hubby opened up to the door to the deck so we could enjoy the breeze while we cooked. Angela put the bread aside while we got going on the longer cooking items. She commandeered the left hand side of the stove and I took over the right (and all of the countertop space within my reach!) She whisked up magic right there in my kitchen while I dipped, dredged and fried the Parmesan Chicken to crispy golden perfect. We cooked and sang with equal enthusiasm (everything from Barry Manilow to ZZ Top), though, truth be told, we both cook way better than we sing. At some point in the mix Angela put that crusty, cheese laden baguette into the oven to get it bubbly & brown. It took about two minutes for the amazing smell of the combined cheeses, garlic and bread to waft throughout the house. Angela measured nothing; she cooked with love and abandon, intuitively knowing when her dishes needed a little tweaking and when they were just right.


I don’t know how we did it, but without really trying, we had everything ready to serve at the same time (I know, when you try to orchestrate this, it never works, but, like I said, this was one of those perfect nights). The weather was so inviting we spontaneously took ourselves outside for dinner on the deck. The smells, the sounds, the shared ritual culminated in one of the best meals, for that matter, one of the best evenings, I’ve ever had.

As we sat around on the deck, after second helpings with empty plates in hand, I exclaimed “oh, man, I was going to take pictures and I got so caught up in the food that I completely forgot.” Angela said “take a picture of these empty plates, that says it all!”

See what cooking with Angela and abandon gets you?