My dad taught me how to cook. He was born in the rural industrial community of Pawtucket, RI and I guess our shared genetic desire for the finer tastes in life helped him to deviate from the meals of his youth (except for Nana's blue ribbon winning clam chowder!) and learn how to cook. I guess since we all know recipes from the region they were imagined, I could describe my dad's areas of expertise as French, Italian, Asian and New Englander...although he commonly mixed all four with very interesting and amazingly tasty results.
|That's me and my dad. We hang out next to the range and above the jar of kosher salt in my kitchen. It seemed appropriate.|
I'd been planning a particular meal all week and was very excited to cook last night when Aaron Ray informed me that he had made different plans for dinner. I pitched a mini-fit and informed ARay that I need at least 2-3 days a week of cooking suppers in order to get it out of my system and I had only cooked once in this past week; therefore, my mini-fit won out...and I made a spectacular dinner...if I do say so myself.
Herbed steak spirals with mushroom and red wine sauce - voila!
|(Ok, Anson Smart took this picture, not me. But I SWEAR mine looked just like this! No kidding!)|
|I don't have a fancy "before" picture of the pasta because I made this recipe up and I don't have an "after" either because, seriously, it is all gone.|
If you really want the recipe, I'll give it to you (I can hear my dad turning in his grave right now), but only if you come over and let me fix it for you first!