A Sunday kind of love

Post valentines day, my mother came over for an afternoon lunch. We were actually going to go out and do some window shopping, but we ended up staying in. Which turned out to be a much better choice. I have four giant windows in my kitchen which allows the sun to trickle through all day long (when the sun is shining mind you). It bounces off the walls and creates the lovliest warm glow. Guaranteed to turn even the winteriest of hearts. Today was a perfect day to just lay around in the sun (inside of course, because it's still 40-something outside and inside is the only place you can actually tell that the rays of sun are warm). Our cat started her morning laying on top of the barbecue in the backyard, in the sun, for over an hour. Inspired, my mother and I decided to copy cat, sans the barbeque lounging of course. I made a large lovely salad (above) with pickled beets, goat cheese, and toasted almonds which we ate slowly, enjoying the warmth coming through the windows. For dessert (below) she brought along tartlettes she purchased on our trip to pike place on valentines day. Gorgeous little almond tartlettes filled with fresh marionberry or pear. I served them with a large strong pot of black tea. Just what a Sunday should be. Warm, relaxing, and delicious.

Recipe: Green Salad with Pickled Beets & Goat Cheese

Ingredients:

2 cups fresh spinach
1 cup arugula
1/4 to 1/2 cup microgreens
3 oz. goat cheese
4 Tablespoons pickled beets, diced
1/2 anjou pear
1/8 cup toasted nuts, roughly chopped
Reduced Balsamic to drizzle over salad

Directions:

1. Mix first three ingredients in a bowl
2. Top with following four ingredients
3. Drizzle with balsamic and a little olive oil if you like
4. Eat and enjoy

I must say I didn't know what ot expect but the beet and pear were truly exquisite together. The sweet, light, crispy pear played off the earthy tartness of the beet.
Plus, two straight days of blue skies and sunny weather? For the northwest, this might mean spring is trying to creep in a bit early this year, a girl can dream. . .