To enjoy cooking, I need time.
The time to prepare, the time to combine all the ingredients and the time to sit back and enjoy the smell of my apartment, without my stomach rumbling and demanding it's dinner.
When I've had a horrible day, such as today, (think dry skin, hair that wanted to go in six different directions and the need to be in eight places at once), I can do one of two things. Order in or pull up my sleeves to create something that, with a little effort and love, will be completely satisfying.
Tonight, my dinner will be the latter. Gnocchi (sadly not home-made) in a white wine, tomato, olive and basil sauce and perhaps, as a treat, some cookies and cream ice-cream. It's a little indulgent but if you can't treat yourself after a bad day, when can you?
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