Mar. 31st, 2003

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Last night Matt decided to be experimental with cooking, which doesn't happen very often, especially when it's not yet grill season.
He was impressed with my version of basil and tomato pesto chicken I'd done (inspired by a sandwich eaten in DC)- The basil, bought fresh from Wilson Farm, was mushed, chicken pan-cooked... the only complaint I had was waking up (and yes I brushed my teeth before bed) with garlic breath.
The bread dough bought frozen has directions for fried dough, apparently, and Matt just had to try- the first try was doughy in the middle, so had to go back in... very good with powdered sugar, but we had a hella big mess once it was over.
Yay foaming orange cleaning product (Billy Mayes must be so happy/and so rich by now) took care of all the grease splatters and spilled sugar.
A good evening remedy after watching The Hours (good... just well, Viriginia Woolf inspired. Not a happy-feel good, but I must say that Nicole Kidman deserved her Oscar)-- Philip Glass did the soundtrack. Yeeeow. He is the master of creating a feeling of calm surface, panicked just about hopeless depths.
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