If a recipe says to broil something, I am not making it. I have no level of comfort with that setting on my oven. Quite frankly, the gas grill is not my friend either. The ingredient yeast used to frighten me off, until the day I cracked my big girl knuckles and actually kneaded some homemade bread. Tomatillos were another ingredient that put any otherwise seemingly delightful dish on the do not attempt list, simply because I did not know what lied beneath the festive wrapping.
|Oh, so a tomatillo is a giftwrapped tomato...sort of.|
My father's kitchen is a safe haven from wayward cuts of meat, high oven temperatures, and scary vegetables. Sure, those things all lurk there, but he can ward away frightening directions with a wave of his wooden spoon. When I forwarded a recipe for him to try that contained tomatillos, he replied that he enjoyed them and we would make the dish during our weekend visit. It makes me happy to be in Dad's kitchen.
|I try not to doubt the guy who worked for a butcher starting at age 14. All steaks are not equal.|
I hope there was a lot on your plate that made you happy this week.