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I mentioned that these days my cooking life usually starts around 9 pm. Some days, I just can't take it, and I need some greasy Chinese food to make it through a writers' meeting. Usually, that's a great idea, and preserves my sanity, if not my solvency. Last Wednesday, it wasn't the greatest idea, because I came home to find Matt making something delicious. He broiled salmon in a glaze of agave and butter and lemon juice (I think), sprinkled it with a crust of almonds and pine nuts, and surrounded it with apples, which gave it moisture and a faint apple aura.
For a salad, he improvised with our limited vegetable stock, and came up with a carrot and pickle coleslaw type thing--let no one say the man doesn't know his way around the improvisational possibilities of the back to the refrigerator.
It was all excellent, and I could only eat a tiny tiny plate of it. Luckily, I got stuffed mushrooms on Friday, so I suppose I've done all right.
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