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Mornings have been bone-chilling frigid. The distant mountain peaks are snow capped, almost mystical against the deep-sea sky. The mesa behind us is still frosted white on the shadow side. Coyote tracks zigzag through the junipers. Yesterday, I watched a jackrabbit sprint across the western slope below our casita, his desert brown camouflage useless against the snow. I shivered and hustled to the kitchen to slice up potatoes.

Trader Joe's in Santa Fe had some of those trendy heirloom tri-colored potatoes this week, the sweetest little gems in purple-blue, red and gold. So, of course, Darling, we had to snag a bag to bring back home. We were both craving comfort food. 

Roasted vegetables. As you may have guessed from my last recipe, they are a favorite staple at our house. And beyond easy. We make them at least twice a week- a convivial ritual. Steve and I join forces in the kitchen at dinner hour and cut up heaps of vegetables and talking politics. Or religion. Human behavior. Projection. Affect and temperament. All those spiky topics your grandmother warned you not to talk about at dinner parties (or at least in mixed company). We talk, all right. And talk.

After all, were simpatico.

Were on the same ethical and moral page. We share the same values (muy importante in a marriage, let me tell you). And were on safe ground here in our tiny desert kitchen- at least as long as the bank holding the mortgage doesnt go belly up (but money is another topic a "polite" woman doesnt discuss).

Steve and I are as fearless and hopeful with another as we were on our very first date- a cup of coffee (make that three) at Jacks Out Back in Yarmouthport. When he asked me where I saw myself in ten years- and told me he wasnt looking for a mother- I knew Id found the man for me.

And last night- the one year mark of the unfortunate hip incident- as we stood in the very spot of my Charlie Brown smack down, rustling up passionate discourse and tossing veggies left and right into a waiting roasting pan and punctuating Mamet style pauses with. Glugs. Of olive oil. And. Pinches of sea salt. My husband slid the pan into the hot oven. And kissed me.

Dinner is done, he said.

May this election soon be, I murmured.

And I raised my glass to the future.



While the veggies are roasting their earthy little hearts out, getting all golden and tender and sweet, put on a pot of your favorite brown rice or quinoa seasoned with a little olive oil and a sprinkle of curry, cumin, or Old Bay Seasoning.

Preheat the oven to 375ºF.


Ingredients:

1 sweet or red onion, cut into wedges
Lots of garlic, several whole or minced cloves


Ingredients:

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil


Serve over cooked brown rice or quinoa. Add a condiment for more protein- hummus is especially delicious with roasted vegetables. Add crumbles of goat cheese, if you like.

More Options:

Add a can of drained white beans or chick peas for added protein; stir them into the vegetables during the last 15-20 minutes of roasting, to heat through.

Leftover roasted veggies can be baked into yummy quiches and frittatas or tossed into soups.

Omnivores can add in sliced cooked sausage or pieces of cooked chicken during the last 20 minutes of roasting; heat through.

 

I used an Orkney Beer called Dark Island

As this is another use for left over yogurt Im entering it for Kates No Waste Food Challenge.

Im also featuring my Food Bloggers Diet badge for the first time.  This isnt a diet and it isnt challenge, its just me cooking healthy, lower fat, lower calorie food.

Yesterday was summery here in Southern California. In a Meg Ryan breezy kind of way- not in a sultry no air peel off your jeans, cowboy boots and socks Jennifer Lopez in U Turn kind of way. Nope. Sunny and warm it was- but not hot like New Mexico.

We've moved into our sublet (above one of Santa Monica's most famous vegan restos). The Honda is Cuisinart and bread machine and wooden spoon free again- after lugging armloads of bags and boxes (via elevator, thank goddess) up to our cozy fourth floor cutie. Yesterday we walked to the ocean, inhaling deep. In truth? I am exhausted. Running on gluten-free fumes. Too tired to shop or cook or make even the tiniest decision, never mind attempt to be clever and insightful and entertaining in a recipe post.