Unabashadly 1950's style Italian night for the return of the Sopranos: Pounded chicken breasts dredged in a bound breading with equal parts breadcrumbs and Parmigiano in the final step with lemon zest stirred in; crisped in oil and butter, covered with a dollop of super-quick canned-tomatoes-with-squashed-more-than-chopped-onions-and-garlic sauce and an embarrassment of decent mozzeralla and more Parmigiano. Broiled till cheese bubbled and got delicious-looking. Plain old linguini with terrible tasteless olive oil that might have well have been greasy water, parsley and garlic, with more of the aforementioned sauce. Rough chopped plain arugula piled atop to stir into the hot pasta and sauce at table till wilted. Garlic bread. Eaten with silver and linen, but crouched around the coffee table. (First post. I love all food, but at home tend to cook very simple things and just take pleasure in executing them really well. Still learning: only just recently bought my very first pan that isn't coated with non-stick stuff).
