Gluttony Part II

In addition to keeping the streets of our fair city free of crime, my husband is an amazing cook. His specialty is Italian cuisine, so when he asked me what I wanted him to make for my birthday I answered, "Chicken Marsala" without a moment's hesitation. (The careful observer will note that he's armed even while cooking. One never knows when rogue bandidos will attack our kitchen.)

The meal started with a vegetable barley soup. Absolutely divine!

Look! Rogue bandidos attacking our kitchen! They were appeased with slices of ham.

Then we had Italian Chickpea Salad with Red Wine Vinagerette! Mmm, capers and olives!

Mmmmm! Chickeny goodness!

One of the bandidos gave up and decided to go watch TV. This brave soul lingered on.

The cake Big B ordered was supposed to say "Happy Queen's Day," but they forgot the apostrophe. Evidently, they thought we were celebrating the New York borough. Never fear, with pastry sprinkles and a kabob skewer your favorite grammarian saved the day (By the way, please ignore my peasant garb. It was my birthday after all, and if a girl wants to wear her PJs all day she ought to be able to.)

Ta da!


That corner with all the flowers was a 1:1 ratio of cake to icing. I talked a good game when I cut the slice, but ended up scraping it off. No one should eat that much icing.
It was a wonderful meal and my refrigerator is chock full of left overs so I shouldn't have to cook for myself all week. It's the gift that keeps on giving!