Simple Pasta Caprese

Pasta Caprese | The Kitten Kitchen

I’m sitting on my couch sipping some white wine, wishing I had more mozzarella cheese because I really want to make this dish again. It was so quick and simple, which has been great this week because I’m dealing with a sick kitty cat. I feel this topic is relevant because the blog is titled, “The Kitten Kitchen,” and I have many “kittens.” Four to be exact. And Miss Eleanor RigbyCat is the queen bee in this humble abode.

It was always just the two of us. Two peas in a pod. Best friends forever. Then I got a boyfriend, Chris, now my husband. Then we adopted three more boy kitties. Needless to say, she wasn’t thrilled, but she has nothing to complain about. She basically has her own apartment upstairs with her own litter box, special food and huge king-sized bed. Don’t feel too sorry for her.

But seriously, she’s one of my soul mates.

I found Ellie in my backyard when I lived in old apartment in Newport, Kentucky. I thought she was pregnant, but it turned out she had a huge hernia in her belly area. There was a tear in the area where she was spayed, and all her organs leaked through that tear. I’m sure I’m not explaining this with medical precision, but I remember that was the gist. She was almost put to sleep during the surgery because it was so extensive, but she ended up coming out of it with flying colors.

A few years later, I found out that she was having pain in her chest, and when I casually brought up the hernia thing, the doctor said she was probably hit by a car at one point, broke her ribs, and they eventually healed improperly, leading to chest pain. He said the force of the car hitting her probably also caused the internal tear that led to the hernia. Other problems she’s had include having her two front fangs pulled because of infections, anemia and arthritis. And, earlier this year she was diagnosed with kidney disease. So, she has to take two pills, two times a day, and we give her fluids once a day through a needle in the  back of her scruff. She just sits there and stares at you. Such a lovely, good girl she is.

The lady that used to live next door to me in Newport said that she thinks Ellie lived outside by herself for almost 1o years. That means she’s probably about a teenager now. Time for me to worry. She was lying down in her litter box the other day, chillin’ (and not peeing), so I assumed the worst. She got some blood work done, and we found out today that she is now severely anemic, and not producing enough of a hormone (erythropoietin), so we are going to have to start giving her some shots three times a week or so. She’s not suffering though. That’s what I was worried about. She’s still lovey, purring and all up in my face, so those are all good signs. Send some good vibes her way, if you’re so inclined.

This was a long-winded way of telling you that I really needed something quick to make for dinner the other night. I was stressed, worried and tired. And this dish delivered. It was warm when I served it, and the next day I ate the leftovers cold, which means it’d be a great dish to bring to a picnic!

Make the simplest pasta dish ever…after the jump

Italian Meatloaf

Italian Meatloaf
Meatloaf, double beatloaf, I hate meatloaf. Sorry, Randy, but I think I have a recipe that might change your mind.

Also, I think I’ve mentioned this before, but I hate the word “loaf.” What a dumb word. It sounds so floofy and gross and sloppy. LOAAAFFFFF. Say it out loud. See? Isn’t it stupid? Ugh.

If you don’t like Italian-inspired foods, get out of my kitchen. Just kidding. Sort of. But really, if you don’t, try my other meatloaf recipe — the one that convinced me that meatloaf wasn’t just a block of ground beef with chunks of gross weird stuff in it.

Alright, while I’d love to continue on this discombobulated rant, I need you to go ahead and read how to make the best meatloaf I’ve ever tasted in my life. And I made it up. And I cooked it. And I’m always a little proud of myself during those moments.

Meatloaf will make you…JUMP! JUMP!

Tomato Soup

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This soup is award-winning. Seriously. One time I won a soup-off with this recipe. And do you know the secret? Nope. Me neither. It’s just good. Oh, and instead of cream, I use bread. That could be the secret. I don’t know. Judge for yourself.

So, hmmm…anything interesting happen while making this? I drank mimosas. Chris and I listened to crappy Christmas music and had a conversation about U2 and the amazing way Bono yells, “BAAAYBEEE PLEASE COME HOOOOME” during the band’s version of “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home).” It’s pretty epic. Don’t believe me? Click and watch, around the 1:57 mark. The man is a master at adding beautiful harmonies where they currently didn’t exist before. Okay, enough about U2. Back to the noms. Ugh, I hate when people say that. And “yummy.” Ick.

One bowl of mater soup, comin’ right up, after the jumpy jump