artichoke bruschetta

You wouldn't know it to read my blog, but I am not the main chef of my family. My husband makes most of our meals, and he's pretty damn good at it. He does the work-a-day cooking while I do the weird sporatic recipes which are frusterating and don't always come out.

Usually when I make something new, even before my husband has time to taste it, I am asking how it is. He takes an excrutiatingly long time to decide and it is usually less than ecstatic: he is a man of few words.

But not this time. I made these bruchetta as an after thought. Or a forethought? I've been thinking about bruchetta for a while, actually. Weird, right? I know - the mind of a food blogger.

I found some nice bread and cut think slices. I toasted each side in the broiler and then rubbed raw pressed garlic over each side and sprinkled a little salt. Then remembered those two jars of marinated artichoke hearts sitting on my top shelf collecting dust, and Voila! Instant gourmet hor d'oeuvres!

This time when I asked him how the food tasted, before he could even swallow, he enthusiastically said, Wow, these are good!

Unbelievable.