LeftoversThanksgiving weekend is, sadly, over. I lie depressed on my couch and simultaneously listen to Tom Waits while watching Sweet Home Alabama on mute, with subtitles. It's a horribly cheesy and puke-inducing flick but I'm in the mood the suffer through it. I choose to wallow in my Sunday blues, wait it out, thinking of the culinary delights I had today - a mozzerella, tomato and basil omelette (still runny just the way I like it) at a jazz brunch in Chelsea, Gewurztraminer wine, asiago cheese, pecans and dried strawberries at a friend's apartment. I'm not in the least bit hungry, but I need to create, to taste, to keep busy, somehow.
Many late nights I rarely eat because I am hungry, but as a result of boredom. My stimulated pallet wakes me up and gives me a mental boost like no other sense. Music tends to put me in an introspective mood. Food, on the other hand, makes me unusually vocal, I want to call people to tell them what I made, I want to enjoy wine with it and talk about the flavors with someone.
Four days have past since Thanksgiving, I still have loads of leftovers in fridge:
--butternut squash baked with cinnamon and brown sugar
--sweet potatoes with pineapple (made by mom)
--steamed brussel sprouts and cauliflower
With the help of my cat, I've finished every last bit of turkey, stuffing, and roasted potatoes with thyme and rosemary. Now what? After three consecutive Thanksgiving style meals, I was more than ready for a change. I had bought some soba noodles at Dynasty market, a big Asian grocery store in Chinatown. I've been meaning to make these hearty buckwheat noodles since my trip to Japan. I loved the honest, simple, and filling noodles as they are dipped in a light and tangy soy broth. I feel as if they are meant to be slurped, and paired with something simple, like a can of sardines. I decide to make a vegetable soba soup. I drop the noodles in boiling water, pop in a video, and they are done by the time I tidy up my kitchen sink, a bit. I drain and add them to my ready made soy broth I had picked up at the Japanese grocery store earlier in the day. I add cooked brussel sprouts, cubes of sweet squash (it reminds me of a soy pumpkin chunks tapas dish I often have in Japanese restaurants) and cauliflower, and pile it all into a big bowl. It is filled to the tippy top, and I carry it and nearly burn myself on my way to the couch. I slurp up every last drop. I am good and full and just a bit less depressed about the work week to come, as I will have an excellent lunch tomorrow.