Welcome to the galley!
Otherwise known as my front door, entryway, and kitchen. Yes, we do indeed step right down onto our counter top. Lovely, right? I have to admit, the counter tops are usually cluttered, as most entryways and kitchen counters are prone to become, so we are always moving stuff around, cleaning, rearranging... it's an endless cycle. Above you can see the sink (with foot pump), stove top and oven. The counter top adjacent to the oven opens to reveal a storage space, and the black space behind the stove top is actually a sliding door that also conceals storage space.
On this side of the galley you can see one of two drawers that hold silverware and other utensils, two very awkward and inconvenient shelves along the wall, and the handle on the counter top that lifts to reveal our cooler. It's pretty much a one person space, and it's a constant game of rearranging everything to get to anything. It's also difficult to find a large, flat area for chopping and food prep. However, I have already had a few culinary successes, and no major disasters or temper tantrums. So!
On last night's menu:
Right now we still have the luxury of being at the marina with a vehicle, which means that we can get to and from the grocery store with ease, and buy pretty much whatever we feel like. But I tried to make a menu plan for the week that used many of the same ingredients, and required only the use of one pot and one small skillet. I used the recipe above as inspiration, but simplified it and omitted some steps entirely, like roasting the garlic for 40 minutes.
In the pot I boiled a random amount of pasta (I never estimate this correctly, by the way), and in the skillet I cooked the bacon, onion, garlic, added in the chicken broth, and then tossed in the radicchio and spinach until it wilted. I didn't bother measuring any of the ingredients, I basically just filled the skillet until it was full. When it looked done, I tossed it with the pasta and added in a little Parmesan cheese, basil, and red pepper flakes.
Right now, it always feels like a major success to finish the cooking. I breath a sigh of relief knowing that I overcame all of the possible obstacles and frustrations to prepare something "normal" for dinner. It really is a great sense of satisfaction, and it makes me feel ridiculously triumphant. That, combined with the knowledge that Riley's going to be doing the dishes, of course.
We sat outside last night, admiring the view of the boats on the water, while eating our dinner on our little cockpit table, in our new cheap, unbreakable plastic dishes from Walmart while we drank our wine out of Solo cups. The life of luxury, I tell you.