{"id":1807,"date":"2004-10-23T06:08:00","date_gmt":"2004-10-23T06:08:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2004\/10\/23\/friday-night-frittata-with-assorted-dances"},"modified":"2015-09-24T03:54:37","modified_gmt":"2015-09-24T03:54:37","slug":"friday-night-frittata-with-assorted-dances","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2004\/10\/friday-night-frittata-with-assorted-dances\/","title":{"rendered":"Friday night: frittata with assorted dances"},"content":{"rendered":"

It\u2019s a bit after eleven. My apartment smells of frittata; the bed is pristine and pale green with fresh sheets; and my social calendar is recently ridiculous. A late Friday night home alone is fine indeed. This being-single thing is quite time-consuming<\/strong>: people to see, spontaneous things to do, loss of sleep to angst and scandal. It\u2019s fantastic. I think I\u2019ll do it for a while.<\/p>\n

Tonight Keaton and I had dinner chez moi, a cozy plan for a chilly, off-and-on rainy evening. We broke open a bottle of Red Truck California Red Table Wine (not the most promising name, but perfectly drinkable) and settled into an evening of catching up. Dinner began with last winter\u2019s favorite broccoli soup<\/a>, courtesy of Chocolate and Zucchini<\/a>\u2019s Clotilde, sopped up with slices of the Essential Baking Company\u2019s Columbia Bread. Meanwhile, a zucchini-and-Pecorino frittata was browning slowly on the stovetop<\/strong>,<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

to be later sliced into wedges and served alongside halves of roasted delicata squash with olive oil and fancy-schmancy fleur de sel. And although Keaton complained of a tentative stomach, she put away a decent share of the last of the defrosted chocolate g\u00e2teau fondant de Nathalie<\/a>. Along the way, the stereo provided accompaniment with a bit of Richard Buckner<\/a> and then \u201cWhat a Day That Was\u201d from the Talking Heads\u2019 Stop Making Sense<\/em><\/a>, for which I did an odd but appropriate running-in-place dance. Keaton did her part by gallivanting and gyrating with the poofy, cupcake-y, petal-pink dress <\/strong>I\u2019ll be wearing in my brother\u2019s wedding next May. I adore that girl, and not only for her dancing and eating abilities.<\/p>\n

After all, it was Keaton who introduced me to the Old 97s<\/a> one fateful day long ago in our nasty Mirrielees<\/a> apartment with brown shag carpet. This past Tuesday brought them in all their indie country-rock glory to Seattle\u2019s Showbox, which meant that I got in a couple hours of my odd but appropriate \u201cshovel dancing\u201d<\/strong> and wistful gazing at lead singer Rhett Miller. Sadly, Keaton had begged off on this particular opportunity, having gotten mysteriously ill on recent outings to the Showbox, but Kate proved a willing recruit.<\/p>\n

As pre-show fuel, Kate and I attempted to make a dinner of tilapia, a plan we reconsidered after shrieking and convulsing and threatening to go into the fetal position<\/strong> upon peeking inside its body cavity and glimpsing its weird white worm-like innards. Damn that man at the Asian market who didn\u2019t clean the thing thoroughly, damn him. Plan B was garlicky saut\u00e9ed shrimp, garlicky saut\u00e9ed escarole, and brown rice, along with some cheap and tasty Smoking Loon Pinot Noir.<\/p>\n

And dessert was, of course, Rhett Miller. He’s so <\/strong>pretty<\/strong><\/a> that he should be kept under lock and key<\/strong>. Short of that, he should at least be barred from looking at his audience so flirtatiously; as a married man with a child, he\u2019s being downright unfair. I\u2019d be shocked if there were a single person in the audience\u2014male or female, gay or straight\u2014who wasn\u2019t pining for him by the end of the evening. Yours truly woke up Wednesday morning bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on only five hours of sleep, invigorated solely by the previous night\u2019s eyefuls of Mr. Miller. I tore through the day\u2019s editorial projects with unusual passion. Old 97s for Men of the Year!<\/p>\n

So tonight, in a spirit of generosity, I regaled Keaton with recreations of my shovel dance\u2014picture lots of grinding hip action and dirt-heaving arm movements\u2014and vivid descriptions of Rhett Miller\u2019s red lips and sweaty girly hair. I sent her home with a leftover-frittata care package, and she generously bestowed upon me the rest of the wine. Now a bath and my bed await, and the promise of restorative sleep. Tomorrow I\u2019ve got to buckle down with a cold frittata sandwich, volume five of A History of Private Life, <\/em>and purposeful thesis-oriented thinking about solidarity and social security. I\u2019ve been making merry entirely too much, but well, I think I’ll do it for a while.<\/p>\n

Zucchini-and-Pecorino Frittata
<\/strong>Adapted slightly from Torakris\u2019 recipe on eGullet<\/a><\/p>\n

3 Tbs olive oil
1 red onion, halved and thinly sliced
1-1 \u00bd lb zucchini, thinly sliced into half-circles
2 Tbs fresh basil, chopped
6 large eggs (preferably free-range, please)
S & P
\u00bd cup good-quality Pecorino Romano, grated<\/p>\n

In a 12-inch nonstick skillet, heat 2 Tbs olive oil over medium heat. Saut\u00e9 onions until wilted, about 5 minutes. Add zucchini and cook, stirring occasionally, until tender, about 10 minutes. Add basil and remove from heat. Drain in colander.<\/p>\n

Crack eggs into a medium bowl and whisk with a fork. Add salt and pepper and cheese, stirring to mix. Add zucchini and onion and stir to mix evenly.<\/p>\n

Heat remaining Tbs oil over medium heat. Add egg mixture, using fork to distribute evenly over pan. Reduce heat to low and cook until set, 12 to 15 minutes or so. Remove from heat and slide frittata onto a large plate. Place skillet over plate, and invert frittata back into skillet. Cook a few minutes more. Invert frittata onto plate to serve. Eat at room temperature or cold. Serves 6-8 as a first course or 4 as a main dish.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It\u2019s a bit after eleven. My apartment smells of frittata; the bed is pristine and pale green with fresh sheets; and my social calendar is recently ridiculous. A late Friday night home alone is fine indeed. This being-single thing is quite time-consuming: people to see, spontaneous things to do, loss of sleep to angst and scandal. It\u2019s fantastic. I think I\u2019ll do it for a while. Tonight Keaton and I had dinner chez moi, a cozy plan for a chilly, off-and-on rainy evening. We broke open a bottle of Red Truck California Red Table Wine (not the most promising name, but perfectly drinkable) and settled into an evening of catching up. Dinner began with last winter\u2019s favorite broccoli soup, courtesy…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nFriday night: frittata with assorted dances | Orangette<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"http:\/\/orangette.net\/2004\/10\/friday-night-frittata-with-assorted-dances\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Friday night: frittata with assorted dances | Orangette\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"It\u2019s a bit after eleven. My apartment smells of frittata; the bed is pristine and pale green with fresh sheets; and my social calendar is recently ridiculous. A late Friday night home alone is fine indeed. This being-single thing is quite time-consuming: people to see, spontaneous things to do, loss of sleep to angst and scandal. It\u2019s fantastic. I think I\u2019ll do it for a while. Tonight Keaton and I had dinner chez moi, a cozy plan for a chilly, off-and-on rainy evening. We broke open a bottle of Red Truck California Red Table Wine (not the most promising name, but perfectly drinkable) and settled into an evening of catching up. 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