The other night I made a magnificent replica of Olive Garden’s chicken and gnocchi soup. It had a whole stick of butter and two cups of milk and it was Italian perfection.
The problem: it made enough for six people, and Mr. M and I are only two.
I put the pot in the fridge and for the next week chicken and gnocchi stew was our primary lunch option. By the third day, I was really over it.
We were still in the midst of the gnocchi siege when my parents called, saying they would swing by on a Tuesday night – boosting our dinner number from the usual two to seven people. I raced to Kroger on my lunch to buy a fat-laced chuck roast, heirloom carrots and fingerling potatoes. Then I floored it home to get the meal in the crock pot before heading back to work.
The roast turned out perfectly for our company – walking in the door I could smell the herbs I’d rubbed into the meat, the smell of the beef broth and the vegetables, and pretty soon the green beans and rolls began to waft their scents into the air. I set the table carefully with my Blue Willow china and cleaned the kitchen. It’s not every day you have company from 16 hours away!
I put the gnocchi soup on the stovetop as a back up in case people were still hungry… but never served it. After all… it’s leftovers.
