thug life

Indeed.

Sorry that's my friend's daughter Bailey, who is adorable, and way too trusting of the adults when there are magic markers and digital cameras in the vicinity. She'll learn.

This post is in no way about thug life. I just had that picture on my camera from last week and it keeps making me giggle.

This post is about butternut squash ravioli, yay. This was my attempt to replicate the flavors (operative word, as it does not resemble in any way) of a dish from a small neighborhood Italian restaurant that sadly, has become one of the latest casualties of the economy. I'll miss you, Smashed Tomatoes (although your name was pretty crappy).

Butternut squash ravioli with sage brown butter sauce. This dish was my favorite. I am sad that I now will have to continue to make it myself when I crave it, because as you can see, I am not very good at it.

Pile-o-ravioli.

The problem is most likely my method. I am very lazy, you understand, and can't be bothered with such things as making pasta dough by hand. That's what wrinkley old Italian women are for. I am neither old (yet) nor Italian, so I do what any self-respecting lazy person would do, and I buy little wonton wrappers.

I swear the raviolis looked perfectly fine before they went into the boiling water. They just got all foldy and stuck together after that. But they still tasted the same. The brown butter sauce was fragrant and nutty and the sage was crispy and delicious. Inside, velvety butternut squash (cooked down with onion and sage, then stick-blended). Paired with a quick wilted spinach salad with fig vinaigrette.

I made too much filling, so I ended up with butternut squash concentrate. Just add milk and I had a delicious soup for lunch today.

Very deliciously thug life. Yeah, that's how I roll.