My lower back currently has a spastic nerve shooting daggers down through my butt cheek. My head hurts from sore shoulder muscles and my shins and knees haven't been this bruised since romping around the playground. I couldn't be happier. This is moving week.
Ali (the boyfriend) and I officially moved in together this past week. After two months of scouring Craigslist for an apartment and finding nothing worthwhile I was ready to give up. He's already lived with me at my place for close to a year (unofficially). But the 600 sq. ft wasn't cutting it for two. Not to mention that he always felt like somewhat of a guest despite the comfort and familiarity of my apartment. So when we found a place a little over a week ago, we sprung at it. All of a sudden it became a regimented routine of packing our belongings and discarding what we didn't need at Goodwill. We said goodbye to the little apartment with the amazing view of downtown Seattle and the sound, the place where he first kissed me, the small apartment with cracks and creaks but lots of charm. We're moving on to the next step.
With packing comes sore muscles, sleep deprivation, agitation (WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE TABLE WON'T FIT IN THE TRUNK! *Fight back unnecessary tears) and an overall upheaval of your routine. After finally hauling the boxed-up goods and furniture we've each accumulated into corners of rooms, we fled to my parents house to find some normalcy amidst the chaos. The obnoxious part about moving is that when you've juuuust about reached your breaking point of sanity upon moving everything in, you realize the fun has all but just begun as you consider the mountains of cardboard boxes you now need to unpack and find new places for keeping. Not to mention the whole decorating thing.
Getting away to the burbs where I could take a shower, watch TV and decompress in a borrowed robe and a goblet of wine actually inspired me to cook again after weeks of eating out. Moving in with a boyfriend is exciting. I've never done it before. My Catholic grandmothers would be rolling over in their graves. What would Jesus do? NOT engage in premarital shenanigans, that's what. But I'm in love, and this is right. Ali is teaching me practical grown up knowledge like the difference between screwdriver heads and how I'm not allowed to use my collection of hangers from dry cleaners. NO WIRE HANGERS! Get out of here Joan Crawford, they work.
So to save our sanity, last weekend we cooked a meal. It was not our best effort, Our steak and potatoes masterpiece had its flaws, but it was our best we could do with foggy heads and sore bodies. I put so much pepper in the mashed potatoes they looked gray. Awesome. I think maybe I'll start a post called the "Failure of the Month." Recognize shortcomings, laugh at them and move on. Ali ate those peppery potatoes like a champ! That's love. The one saving grace from that meal was the sauteed mushrooms we unapologetically spooned over our steaks. Hot damn. They were silky with butter and deep with herbs and earthy goodness that only mushrooms give off. One thing in your day will always go right, these were mine this past weekend.
8 oz. of sliced Mushrooms - your choice but fancier is tastier (duh). I used button mushrooms
1/2 stick Butter
2 tsp crushed Rosemary
1 tsp Tarragon
3 Tbs minced Shallot
5 cloves minced Garlic
1/4 C dry White Wine
2 tsp Salt
1 tsp ground Black Pepper
Melt butter in a saute pan and add Shallots and Garlic. Saute for 2 minutes until Shallots are translucent and add mushrooms and herbs. Cook for 5 minutes until mushrooms are soft and add White Wine. Reduce to a simmer and cook for an additional 10 minutes. Add salt and pepper. Pour over steak or grab a spoon and ladle directly into mouth.