For those nights when you get home hungry, stressed, and impatient, Hangry is here to help. Each Monday, Kendra Vaculin will share quick, exciting meals that anyone can make -- whether you're in your first apartment or feeding a hangry family.
Today: Step away from the rice cakes. Make this frittata for dinner.
Last night I had rice cakes and a red pepper for dinner. That was it: crumbly dry rice cakes straight from the bag and a bell pepper whole, which I crunched into like a barn animal. I had every intention of cooking real food for myself, and then the rolly, shelved kitchen island I’d ordered online arrived in 452 parts, so my evening shifted away from nutrition and towards assembly instructions. Many different kinds of screws. Figures A through Q. And one vegetable, raw, eaten on the couch, in what couldn’t even be exhausted satisfaction because I’d taken a break mid-drawer construction. The as-yet-unattached wooden planks judged me from their heap on the floor. I ignored them.
Sometimes that’s dinner. That’s real life. Not pretty. And a little embarrassing, I guess, for someone who supposedly really likes making food!!!! But for all the shade I throw at friends with unused apartment ovens and staggering takeout bills, there exists the intermittent eve that I sup on Quaker products, and Quaker products alone.
The next night, though, I try to use the stove.
Food52’s mission probably says it best: You need to cook. Maybe not all the time, but some.
For when you don’t have kitchen furniture to shoddily assemble, and eating straight from the pan sounds like a good idea,
For the last greenmarket baskets of multicolored heirloom tomatoes, all bulbous and weird,
For when one kind of cheese is not enough ---
Here’s a frittata.
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 handfuls spinach, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
8 big basil leaves
1 heaping cup chopped tomatoes -- just a big ol' mound of them
2 ounces shredded asiago cheese
3 ounces ricotta
Salt and pepper
What do you usually throw in your frittata? Tell us in the comments!
Photos by Mark Weinberg