Do you ever start making dinner far, far too late for it to be feasible that you'll be eating it that day? I do. This is what happened to me on Friday. Oh it all started out okay. My recipe, a torn page ripped from Gourmet's October issue, started out with roasting sweet potatoes. In a horrible twist of fate, the two fat potatoes I procured took more than 90 minutes to cook through, rather than the 45 minutes I was counting on. I was starved. Then my husband came home, starved. The potatoes were only halfway cooked and still needed to cool completely before I could work with them properly. We ordered Chinese.
Once my belly was full and the potatoes were finally cool, I proceeded with the recipe, adding parmesan, egg, flour, salt, nutmeg, and (my own twist) cardamom, pepper. Thirty minutes later, I now have a tub filled with frozen gnocchi awaiting another day's dinner. They smelled delicious, and I could just imagine them with browned butter, sage and toasted walnuts. I hope they taste good, whenever I get around to making them.
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