September 27, 2010
I took a cooking class.
It was at this adorable little place in Ladera Ranch called Tspoons.
And if you look closely in this photo, you’ll see me and my car in the reflection of the door.
Here’s the pantry ::Swoon::
When I grow up, I want a pantry just like this.
Here’s what we made:
Chicken Rollatini with rigatoni
Caribbean spiced chicken with plantains
Panko encrusted tenders with creole sauce
Whole roasted garlic chicken with citrus honey glaze
and an apple tart for dessert.
There were a total of 6 women in the class, and there were hands everywhere, fighting over who gets to stab and stuff the chicken with garlic.
I tried to stay out of that fight, lest my hand get mistaken for a chicken part.
Plus I wasn’t feeling very stabby that day, and I don’t need another round of stitches. Thankyouverymuch.
Here’s our rollatinis stuffed with cheese and spinach and goodness:
After we cooked, we sat out on the patio and feasted.
It was delicious.
The cooking class was a good lesson in sharing for me. Because I’m a mess if you step foot in my kitchen while I’m cooking. I get all panicky and sweaty. And sweat isn’t good for the food; adds too much salt.
It’s not that I don’t like you, it’s just that I’m a rabid control freak.
But in the cooking class, and I tried to mellow out and stand back.
I think I’m taking major strides at being a better human being.