I don’t actually cook. But I think about food almost without stopping, so I have a lot of ideas. One is a cold bean salad that I’m thinking of as Very Chunky Hummus: garbanzo beans, olive oil, garlic, a lot of finely chopped parsley, lemon, salt, pepper and (this is the slightly surprising part) a hell of a lot of toasted sesame seeds. I mean an amount equivalent to the tahini in hummus. Take out the garbazo beans and add chunks of cold roasted eggplant. Sound familiar? Uh-huh. Mint would be good in either. And roasted onions. It would probably be a good idea to saute the garlic for just a minute before putting it in. Or put the garlic in whole, raw and slightly crushed, but take it out before serving. I’m sorry to say that home-cooked garbanzo beans really are better than canned, and they take a long time to cook. That’s probably why this dish exists only in my mind.
What brought this on is, I just toasted a bunch of sesame seeds and then added a lot of good kosher salt and Enzo is eating it by the fistful. “I love your cooking, Mama-Kate.” That’s word-for-word, baby. Normally he resists everything I make, begs for restaurants and calls me “dude.” So we are really into sesame seeds.
I just have to add that it’s hot at night now, so Enzo wears thin checked boxer shorts and a sleeveless ribbed white t-shirt to bed. (I refuse to call it a wife beater.) He looks very old school, very Mad Men. In the morning with his sleepy face and his hair a bit flattened, he looks like he should be kicking back with a cup of weak black coffee and a cigarette. (God forbid. It’s just a classic image is all I’m saying.)