My Hubby has gone soft; not in his middle or god forbid down south, even though being a pharmacist would make it pretty easy to get his hands on some Viagra. And illegal too, so don’t go getting any ideas.
Even worse than him going soft? It’s partially my fault.
Once upon a time, in an unrealistic world far, far away and a lifetime ago, we did household chores together. We took turns mowing the lawn, making the bed, and folding the laundry. We shared the mundane, minus cleaning the bathroom, because I refuse to stick my hand down a toilet. I’d rather move, which could admittedly get quite costly.
In any event, we prepared meals together from start to finish. We discussed what we were going to eat, who was going to cook what, and then bantered back and forth over the dreaded clean up. Somewhere along the way though, our roles shifted and I became the creative one and he my prep chef. After the tiny human was born, it changed yet again, with efficiency winning out. The simple fact of the matter is I could cut all the vegetables in the time it takes him to cut an onion and possibly his finger. No offense honey.
So these days I do the vast majority of the cooking, aside from his specialty PB&J sandwiches, crust removed, or pasta with jarred marina sauce and a side of broccoli because veggies. He gets mad props for always including the green goodies. It’s partially why I married him, ignoring of course his access to Viagra.
Anyway, tomorrow I’m hopping on a jet plane, sans tiny human. I will be leaving Ave for three whole days and three whole nights in his very capable care. When it comes to being a parent, he’s a rock star. He’s patient (which we all know I’m not), calm (again, not necessarily my forte) and tolerant of toddler antics (The only rule in toddler fight club is there are no rules). Where he’s lacking is a pair of attached milk jugs and a little bit of kitchen creativity.
Since I don’t want the two of them living Survivor style over the next few days (ya know, eating bugs and whatever else they can find in the backyard), I thought I’d share a recipe he could whip up while I’m gone. One that involves the Hubby’s beloved pasta, but is also packed with palate pleasing pesto, ample amounts of asparagus and grilled goat cheese. It’s tasty, tantalizing and super simple to throw together, even while juggling a tiny human.
Bonus points, babe, if you send me a picture.
- 1 bunch Asparagus, chopped into 1 inch pieces
- 2 cloves Garlic, roughly chopped
- 1/2 Tbsp. Extra Virgin Olive Oil
- Salt and Pepper
- 3/4 lb Pasta of choice (I prefer shells or anything that holds the pesto well)
- 1/4 to 1/2 cup reserved Pasta Water
- 3/4 cup good quality Pesto
- 4 oz. Goat Cheese, sliced into four medallions
- Handful of Cherry Tomatoes, halved
- Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Spread asparagus on a cookie sheet. Drizzle with olive oil, a few cranks of salt and pepper, and your roughly chopped garlic. Mix well until the olive oil lightly coats the asparagus. Roast in the oven for 6 minutes. Flip asparagus over and then cook for another 6 minutes, adding the goat cheese medallions to the oven for the last two minutes of cooking.
- While your asparagus is roasting, cook pasta of choice according to package directions, reserving 1/2 cup of the hot pasta water. Drain pasta.
- Add the cooked pasta, the roasted garlic asparagus, the pesto and a 1/4 cup of the reserved pasta water to a bowl. Stir to combine. If you'd like your pasta to be a little bit more saucy, add more reserved pasta water.
- Top with halved cherry tomatoes and goat cheese medallions.
Who does the household chores in your house? What’s your significant other’s go to meal?