roasted vegetables

Well the girls have suckered me into throwing them a dinner party. A party for just them. At some point during the tantrum that was being thrown as I was flinging some local pork product onto galettes before my last salon dinner party, I agreed to this. (Anything! As long as you are sleeping in thirty seconds!)
So tonight I’m making ice cream, and macaroni and cheese, because they chose the menu. And tomorrow, many little children will walk in my door, puzzled by the invitation to a “dinner party”. It makes perfect sense to the girls (bubbly drink, little bites on the white platter, place cards) but everyone else seems a little confused. I guess most people have to brave their first dinner party at some point, but these lucky souls will get it sooner rather than later.
I secretly think that it will be fun. Hope that it will be fun. My mind and mood have not improved much from yesterday, but there’s nothing like a party to snap me out of it. A dinner party. For kids. What the hell am I thinking.
If I’m still awake tomorrow night I’ll tell you about it. But in case I don’t make it, I thought I’d talk about roast vegetables for a minute.
They don’t need much more attention than that, to cook I mean. You can basically roast anything, but general favorites include:

beets
potatoes
brussels sprouts
carrots
celeriac
kohlrabi

The key is to get everything about the same size. I have a friend who roasts every vegetable on separate pans to allow for different cooking times. My oven is too small for this. Instead, just taste every vegetable often, so that you have actually eaten half of the vegetables by the time they are done. Cut the vegetables and toss in olive oil, salt and pepper. Lay them on a parchment lined tray. Roast at 400 degrees (no cooler!) until they are done. They are done when they taste good, but if you’re someone who needs a little more direction, you’re probably shooting for 30-45 minutes. They should be a little burn-y on the edges, but still juicy. Well roasted vegetables are a truly beautiful thing, and you might eat them all before dinner. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.