The children have taken to mocking me.
They have a new game on the bus. It tickles them to no end. They figured out that it drives me absolutely freakin' bananas when one of them sticks out their tongue and tries to lick the bus.
And spurred on by this revelation, they try to lick everything on the bus. A lot.
The walls of the bus. The yellow tape that signals a stop request. The upholstery. The poles where people with colds and typhoid and malaria hold on and leave their smears of bacteria behind. The poles that are covered with the flesh prints of people who don't bother washing their hands after going to the bathroom. Or who don't wash their hand after doing even worse things than going to the bathroom.
You people know who you are.
So, after figuring out that I will throw myself into all sorts of contortions just to prevent their tongues from landing on anything, they have taken to flailing about and threatening to lick anything their faces can reach. They do this not as a threat though, because they will, in fact, just lick anything in front of them, with abandon and without concern and then, just fall apart into great squeals and cackles as I make the sour face that mother's before me have perfected over the years when their children do things like eat fertilizer or lick an earth worm.
And they are beside themselves with glee, like midget Snydely Whiplashes tying poor Nell to the rail road tracks and howling at their own terrible deeds, and then mocking me as I try to furiously wipe their tongues with the sleeve of my shirt.
This is my life on public transportation.
I am Nell tied to the tracks. And the train, in the form of pneumococcal meningitis and a medi-vac chopper to Saint Jude's Hospital, is coming right at us. Maybe.
So, I'm doing what any self-respecting mother would do with bus germs and tongue spit staining her shirt - I'm cracking open a bottle of wine tonight after the kids and their dis-infected tongues go to sleep, sinking deep into the couch with my hot husband and gorging myself on these sumptuous slow roasted tomatoes.
A nice start to the long weekend. I hope you have a great one.
Pomodori al Forno
The ridiculously simple recipe and lovely picture are courtesy of Molly at Orangette
* 1 cups (or more) olive oil, divided
* 2 pounds plum tomatoes, halved lengthwise, seeded
* 1 1/2 teaspoons dried oregano
* 3/4 teaspoon sugar
* 1/2 teaspoon salt
* 1 to 2 garlic cloves, minced
* 2 teaspoons minced fresh Italian parsley
* Aged goat cheese (such as Bûcheron)
* 1 baguette, thinly sliced crosswise, toasted
INGREDIENT TIP/ Alta Cucina canned plum tomatoes are available online from sciabica.com.
Preheat oven to 250°F. Pour 1/2 cup oil into 13x9x2-inch glass or ceramic baking dish. Arrange tomatoes in dish, cut side up. Drizzle with remaining 1/2 cup oil. Sprinkle with oregano, sugar, and salt. Bake 1 hour. Using tongs, turn tomatoes over. Bake 1 hour longer. Turn tomatoes over again. Bake until deep red and very tender, transferring tomatoes to plate when soft (time will vary, depending on ripeness of tomatoes), about 15 to 45 minutes longer.
Layer tomatoes in medium bowl, sprinkling garlic and parsley over each layer; reserve oil in baking dish. Drizzle tomatoes with reserved oil, adding more if necessary to cover. Let stand at room temperature 2 hours. DO AHEAD Cover; chill up to 5 days. Bring to room temperature before serving.
Serve with aged goat cheese and toasted baguette slices.