Usually when I get home from work (at 6:30 to 7:00 p.m.) someone is already cooking dinner. Which is a good thing, since by this time just walking to the front door is an adventure. Tonight I came home to a quiet, dinner-less house. Everyone was gone except for my husband, who was fast asleep in bed. He's recently hurt his own back, yet is back at work - according to his w/c doc just fine and ready for work. All I know is he's in pain every day after work.
So I decided it's time to make the mushroom and ricotta cheese ravioli that I've been waiting to try.
I grab the package out of the freezer (What - you thought I did this from scratch??? oh hells no). Alas, all the big pots are either with food in fridge (I coulda had leftovers). Alasser (yeah, I know it's not really a word, work with me here - geez), all the small pots are sitting in the sink. Just as I was about to wash a pot - my hubby wakes up and takes over pot washing duties. So I retire to the couch with a small plate from the cupboard (side-trip, had to re-stack all the small plates because my youngest son, whom I love with all my heart stacks them on top of the big dishes JUST TO fuck WITH ME) Along with the small plate, I take a small knife, a small black/purple homegrown heirloom tomato (tastes very different from other tomatoes - very different), the rest of an onion, a smallish tomatilla (like a tomato, only green, sticky and sweetly citrus-y. Used in salsa verde). Then while The Middle is showing, I'm attempting to thinly slice everything - because even though I use frozen raviolis - especially the ones WITHOUT parmesan cheese (I loath Parmesan cheese with a passion. I loathe the taste, the smell AND THE LOOK) - I make my own sauce for ravioli - and it's not even really a sauce, but just a buttery oniony coating.
After thinly slicing, everything, completely missing my fingers (I frequently cut myself, I shouldn't be allowed near knives - my HANDS AND FINGERS DON'T WORK RIGHT, family! They don't WORK) I set the plate of thinly sliced goodness on the counter, I set the only clean smallish pan (which is rather small - big enough to fry one egg) - hey the medium would have been too big, and the large pan WAY too big on the stove, threw a hunk of butter in it and turn the burner on. Hmmmm - maybe more butter - yep, threw another hunk in the pan. Asked my youngest sweetest son (who had just gotten home minutes before) to crush the garlic for me - with the garlic crusher that I finally (after years, and years of wanting and not quite telling anyone I wanted one) bought for myself, yet am unable to use it by myself because when I squeeze things like garlic crushers I get intense pain, blah blah, yadda-yadda-yadda. He does this for me, then tells me the pan isn't even hot...ARRGGHHHH(That's pirate talk for SHIT!) I mess and mess with the burner, plugging it in (it was loose) and wiggling it around, plugged it in three times. It still wouldn't get hot - after all the messing around, it only got hot enough to barely warm the pan on, so I moved the pan to the back burner, the bigger burner and set it on HIGH. Why? Why did I set it on High, I don't know Why. Perhaps I'll Die.... I then went to stretch my back out and watch a few minutes of the show that I'd now almost missed 10 minutes of. ARRGGHHHHH!
I see my husband go into the kitchen. I see him leave. He says nothing. A few minutes later, it smells very hot and buttery...OOPS! I move very quickly into the kitchen just in time to watch the outside of the small little orange pan with ceramic inside catch on fire on the outside. I very calmy GRAB the handle (not very hot, thankfully) and pull it off the burner to the non-working burner. The butter is blackened allright - the butter and the garlic which is now blackened and pretty crispy. Yummmm. Cajun cooking! for ravioli. Oh yeah! fusion cooking at it's best!
I figure, what the ARRRGGGHHHHHRRRGGHH (pirate talk for fuck) and throw the beautifully, thinly sliced onions, tomatillas and heirloom tomato into the blackened butter and hear the satisfying SIZZLE of cooking items. In HOT BUTTER. Yes. Yum. Stir it up, put a lid on it and turn the back burner down to 3, put the pan back on the very hot, now cooling down burner. Now it's time to drain the raviolis, so I drained them, threw just a bit of butter into the bottom of the now very hot, waterless pot to melt - coat bottom of the pan and threw the now drained ravioli back into the pot.
I walked into the other room, stretched out for five minutes (back was bitchin' at me) and then went into the kitchen to check on the blackened butter garlic sauce. Looks okay - a little dark, but smells smoky and tasty. So I empty the whole thing on top of the raviolis and dish myself up a small plate of raviolis (or is it even raviolis? maybe plural is the same as singular? Who knows...hell, who cares?-okay, I do, just a little bit)
I took my first bite - now these were stuffed with ricotta cheese and mushrooms.
first bite with the onion/garlic/tomato/tomatilla butter saucelike concoction....
Best ever raviolis.