We went for inexpensive linens and did come home with a few towel sets (Steven sweats a lot on the trainer these days), but towel sets are not this woman's treasure.
What else did I buy? A colander.
I don't strain many things. But it was ceramic, glazed in a beautiful shade of green and I couldn't pass it up. It stared at me as I passed the first time through the open market.
A sweet voice came from the holey bowl, speaking to me, "If you put me in your kitchen, you will begin to enjoy being there more. I will keep you company with my soothing green color and artistic design."
Oh, I tried not to listen, but ended up making four rights through the park in which the market is held until we met again.
Everybody, say hello to Little Green Colander. ["Heeellllooo, Litttlllle Greeeen Colllanderrr."]
After getting her safely home across many a stone street, I quickly made her feel welcome. We worked together to clean a batch of mushrooms that I eventually sauteed into a chicken cacciatorie-ish dish.
Such a pretty Little Green Colander.
By the way, dinner was good. It was Steven's recipe, which pretty much means we threw a bunch of stuff into a pan and, because he's Italian, it cooked up perfectly.
Buenas noches, cocina. Buenas noches, Little Green Colander. Y buenas noches, mi amigos.
It's a lovely handmade piece and what's so cool is you heard it speak to you and it gave you something wonderful to write about and in turn you gave us something nice to read.
ReplyDeleteoooh how pretty! the mushrooms look great, too. you are oh so domestic! :)
ReplyDeletexoxo
Ooooh it's lovely!
ReplyDeleteI have an overwhelming urge to sing you a Joni Mitchell song...but I will refrain. Mostly because of your dislike of Joni Mitchell songs.
I, too, am quite impressed by this new domestic Jen goddess. Impressed and completely terrified.