My dinner looks like a tree.

Before we begin, I would like to introduce you to this. As my best friend from childhood* said, it's like nobody involved in it had the moxie to speak up and say, "You know, we probably shouldn't perpetrate this on the world." Or, and this is my theory, a dark, malevolent cloud settled over everyone's aesthetic preferences during the nineties, occluding all judgment as to what is beautiful and/or good.

That being said, I've been singing this song in my head all weekend, interspersed with snatches from "Blessed Raspberry Songs."

And now, this is why dinner looks like a tree. It is green on top...

Steamed greens with fried garlic

...and brown on the bottom.

roasted mushroom soup

I found myself using a tiny, sharp knife to shave off thin slices of garlic, which I then fried until golden brown in olive oil and tossed with the lightly steamed mixed greens. It was like this scene from Goodfellas, except not as convivial. And with less lobster.

We were good fellas, you know, wise guys.

*I avoid using names other than Andy's, for a variety of reasons. This lovely lady will from now on be referred to as BFfroC ("BEE-frok").