My apartment smells of toasting cheese – Comté, to be exact – and scallions. In the oven is a loaf of Dorie Greenspan‘s cheese and chive bread, though I’ve taken her bonne idée, substituting scallions for chives and throwing in a handful of toasted walnuts, as well. Cooking this bread is my way of hurrying the start of my weekend, because as I chopped and stirred and now enjoy the warm scents drifting through the apartment, I am thinking of tomorrow night, when this bread will be the accompaniment to a well-deserved glass of Friday-night scotch for an overworked, carbohydrate-loving doctor I know.
Arriving home later than usual tonight, due to last-minute meeting with my boss, which resulted in a missed train, and with only moments to spare before the opening bars of “Glee” (my daughters’ favorite program, for which I must be seated beside them from start to finish else their enjoyment be apparently diminished), I made the rapid and happy decision that it would be a cheese, bread, and wine dinner for me this evening. (Perhaps it’s worth mentioning that my daughters had already dined at their father’s home this night.)
Thanks to a cheese, bread, and salad dinner suggested by my beau a week ago, my refrigerator was the protector of a lovely wedge of Piave, a small piece of Pere Joseph, and rounding things off, a chunk of Bayley Hazen Blue (he knows his cheese, I’ve discovered…) My vegetable, carrots dipped in Moroccan-spiced yellow pepper hummus I picked up at the Sunday farmer’s market.
With a dinner as pleasing and companionable as that, it barely mattered that “Glee” was a repeat.