Sometimes, at the close of a weekend full of errands, dinner with friends, and general busy-ness, the most you can do is tumble onto the couch with the book review section of the New York Times. And then you remember that, oh yes, you have to feed yourself. What to do, what to do?
Growing up, my mother called Sunday suppers, “Fend for Yourself Night.” I must have gotten this propensity for laziness from someone. Usually my mom would do some cobbling together: there would be leftovers, or a can of tomato soup with some elbow macaroni bobbing about in the broth, there were eggs to cook, and if things really got slim, a bowl of cereal usually did the trick. But the one thing that these dishes had in common– mom didn’t have to spend much time in the kitchen.
Last Sunday I found myself throwing [...]