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Sun, January 1, 2012
Hello 2012
I gotta think that if indeed somehow down the road called my life that if I murdered someone and was sentenced to death, the last meal that I would order before I'm walked to the 'big squirt' would be what we prepared for our last meal of 2011 at home on New Year's Eve.
Sandy and I whipped up a dandy. I can't remember the last time I felt that full and satisfied with a meal.
Sicilian shrimp was the headliner. You peel them, butterfly them, dredge them in egg and coat with Italian bread crumbs. They're then drizzled with a sauce made up of melted butter and cooking cherry.
As the shrimp bakes you prepare some angel hair pasta, then toss it into a frying pan where olive oil, garlic and scallions are waiting to soak into the pasta.
On the side was a fantastic from-scratch Italian salad, the ingredients so fresh that the entire kitchen smelled of a vegetable garden as Sandy whipped up her grandmother's recipe from Palermo.
A fresh loaf of Italian bread with butter completed the perfect meal.
And there was dessert too, a chocolate cannoli the size of Maine was washed down with the last of the bottle of champagne we had opened for the occasion.
I haven't eaten anything since. When I do, no matter what my next meal is it will only be a letdown from last night. The ultimate.
Sandy and I whipped up a dandy. I can't remember the last time I felt that full and satisfied with a meal.
Sicilian shrimp was the headliner. You peel them, butterfly them, dredge them in egg and coat with Italian bread crumbs. They're then drizzled with a sauce made up of melted butter and cooking cherry.
As the shrimp bakes you prepare some angel hair pasta, then toss it into a frying pan where olive oil, garlic and scallions are waiting to soak into the pasta.
On the side was a fantastic from-scratch Italian salad, the ingredients so fresh that the entire kitchen smelled of a vegetable garden as Sandy whipped up her grandmother's recipe from Palermo.
A fresh loaf of Italian bread with butter completed the perfect meal.
And there was dessert too, a chocolate cannoli the size of Maine was washed down with the last of the bottle of champagne we had opened for the occasion.
I haven't eaten anything since. When I do, no matter what my next meal is it will only be a letdown from last night. The ultimate.
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