Pasta

Although I am currently livid with the live in, I will put that aside and give him due props for the recent string of dates he’s organized.

This week we took a cooking class – pasta was the subject. And it was divine. Seriously, so much fun.

This was our first cooking class, however, and prepared we were not. Or…I was not. We arrived at 6:30pm, which is my feeding time, to an empty kitchen. Major red flag. I immediately turned to the live in and said (in a voice that was apparently loud enough for everyone to hear) “well, I certainly don’t see anything to eat!” To which captain obvious replied, “That’s because you have to make it.” And I get that, I really do, but come on how about a few appetizers to start?!

And… maybe they were, maybe they weren’t - but I got the strong impression that everyone else in the class was eyeing my hair. And not in a ‘oh how fabulous and luscious (thanks to the deep conditioner my stylist comped me!) it is’ way but in a ‘oh how out of control and so not tied back it is’ way. I didn’t have a hair tie with me either. Sorry. But it’s not like they had hair nets on either.

All of that aside, it took my fellow classmates about 3 minutes to see past my mangy hair and onto the finer qualities I brought to the table. Like my live in. And my first class ability to dump three ingredients into a food processor and press, “on”.

The group was actually a ton of fun. It was four other couples, and one single dude. I’m sure he read in some Portland Singles magazine that cooking classes would be an excellent place to meet the ladies. That’s too bad for him.

I wish I had pictures for you but I pulled out my camera only to realize the battery was 100% dead. The head instructor did look just like the boy from Ratatouille. And so naturally I told him this…in the middle of him explaining a recipe. Couldn’t tell if he was amused or insulted. But given the spectacle I created once several of the other girls saw the resemblance and immediately started agreeing and pointing and nodding their heads…I would guess insulted. But he did look just like him.

By the end of the evening we had learned to make 4 new pasta dishes, plus pasta from scratch. We are totally in love with fresh pasta now. On the verge of becoming pasta snobs, actually. So obviously we bought a pasta press or cutter, or whatever you call it. Probably just another kitchen gadget that will eventually find a home in our storage unit, but for now we’re looking forward to razzle dazzling our friends with a pasta dinner party or two…