Saturday night was my first time in our hot tub. Ever.
We
moved here in June when my pregnancy was already in full-swing. I had Eleanor in November, and no one has time to go hot-tubing when they have a newborn. Around the first of the year if the opportunity arose I would weighed my options: hot tub or sleep? Guess what won. But my amazing husband said to me Saturday "Why don't you go in the hot tub tonight? I'll hold the baby." (Que music: "What a man, what a man, what a mighty fine man...")
So, I waited until James was asleep and the baby was fed and it was dark enough that no neighbor would catch a glimpse of me in my bikini, and I did it.
It was indescribably blissful. The stars were out. Frogs croaking all around (Have I mentioned the frogs around here yet? Loud!). It was so incredibly peaceful.
Rewind to about
eleven months ago. I was so annoyed that this house had a hot tub. It was a waste of water, of energy, of money, of time. I suggested that the sellers take it with them. They didn't. I suggested we drain it and fill it with cold water for a kids' pool in the summer and then leave it empty in the winter. We didn't. I complained every time Lane went out to check the tub and balance the ba-jillion chemicals. I rolled my eyes each time we got a package in the mail containing said chemicals. I was not happy about the tub.
Guess what I was thinking Saturday night? "Why haven't we always had a hot tub? Why am I not in the hot tub every night? Why can't I live in a hot tub?"
I wish I were the hot-tub loving type of person from the beginning. Why can't I just appreciate luxury and comfort and enjoyment for enjoyments' sake? (Yes, I recognize the irony of this statement when considering the title of my blog.) I am agenda -driven. Everything has to serve a functional purpose in my opinion, or its not worth the energy, the time, the money.
I wish I could be less practical. More okay with the hot tub, the expensive exotic ingredient, the cute dress that I have no current occasion for, the seven thirty dinner time because I started the dish too late but just had to have it.
Maybe this should be my late New Year's resolution. I'll start with loving the hot tub. And the seven thirty dinner time... because I had to have this pizza.
Roasted Brussels Sprouts and Bacon Pizza
warning: not a very amount-specific recipe
1/2 lb brussels sprouts, cut into fourths lengthwise
olive oil
salt
freshly ground pepper
1/2 sweet onion, cut up length-wise into
1 tbsp brown sugar (optional)
5 cloves garlic, minced or pushed through a garlic press
5 slices bacon
1 1/2 lb pizza dough
shredded mozzarella
shredded parmesan
Toss sprouts in a little olive oil with a pinch of salt and pepper. Spread them in a single layer on a baking sheet. Roast brussels sprouts at 425 for about 12 minutes (until just beginning to brown).
Carmalize onions. Heat a couple tbsp olive oil in a large pan over medium-low heat. Add onion and brown sugar if you want a little added sweetness. Sprinkle with a little salt. Cook about a half hour, until translucent. Remove onions and set aside. Without wiping pan, cook bacon until crispy. Cool and crumble it.
Roll out dough. Combine garlic, 2 tbsp olive oil, and a pinch of salt. Spread evenly all over the dough. Sprinkle with a good amount of mozzarella. Spread sprouts, onions, and crumbled bacon over the pizza and top with parmesan.
Bake 12-15 minutes at 425, or until crust is done in the middle and cheese is beginning to brown in some spots. Serve hot. Enjoy.
Serving suggestion: crisp salad with balsamic vinaigrette
(This photo taken by Lane.)
This time, a year ago. Still makes me laugh that I wrote that silly post.
PS Thank you for all your sweet comments about my being back in action.
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