FB and I are extremely fortunate to live a mere two blocks away from one of the best farmer’s markets in Rome. It is here that we do our weekly grocery shopping on Saturday mornings, throwing kisses to our friends and family, while we carefully plan our meals.
I am usually pretty good about planning meals for the week; fish on Saturday, an elaborate lunch on Sunday, fresh and grassy greens at the beginning of the week, stews/curries/soups towards the end. Still, sometimes – well, more often than not – I miscalculate and am left on Friday evening with fridge filled with beer, vodka, jam, butter, a drop of milk, and this:
So I ask you: What does one do with a sorry piece of eggplant, a pinch of tomatoes, some limp fava beans, a browning zucchini, some eggs, and a hunk of pecorino romano?
Well first, you invite a friend who enjoys beer and vodka and butter over to dinner. My invitation to said friend, JK (you’ll hear more about him later), was a frazzled email simply asking him to “help me get rid of whatever is left in the fridge.” He accepted graciously, “do you have vodka? (pause) Ok then, I’m there.”
Now. What to make.
A carrot salad dressed with olive oil, red wine vinegar, and mustard.
Oven-baked eggplants with chopped garlic and a dash of lemon.
Radicchio salad with canned borlotti beans and tuna dressed with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and mint.
A pecorino and fava bean frittata.
A tomato frittata.
FB’s famous fried zucchini with a spritz of lemon.
The amazing thing about these dinners (dare I say dinner party?) is that the food, heavily fried or dressed or baked, ends up being heck-a-good. Plus there is that overwhelming and self-indulging feeling of pride of not having wasted the precious food we purchased from my darling Signora Maria who tirelessly works at the market every morning.