The Panini Genie

Magic, magic, magic.

Do you believe in magic?

Do you believe in magic of the melty, crispy, pressed, fresh, Italian sort?

Do you believe in paninis?

Say yes. Just say yes.

The most exciting moment of July was buying a panini maker.

Well, persuading my mother to buy a panini maker.

This is what happened a couple weekends ago:

I stumbled out of bed at 11am and slapped the sleep out of my head. I slept for twelve hours. Not good. Head-achey and delirious, I blindly looked over my agenda for the day. (Because really, what else does one do when they've wasted precious hours sleeping?)

The index card read: write, send a card to G, bake pumpkin muffins, leg workouts, watch Parks & Rec.

Naturally, I didn't do any of that. Eh, I thought, it'll just be a spontaneous type of day.

My stomach growled and I walked to the kitchen.

My mom was at the table, eating her breakfast, when she said she'd be going to Macy's later on in the day. She asked if I wanted to come along. 

My first instinct was HECK TO THE NO. Macy's is my mom's drug. She'll say she'll only be an hour but she'll walk out seven hours later carrying slow cookers, Lenox plates, business pants, polos, handbags for presents, Estee Lauder perfume, and clearance pajamas.

It's a Persian mom thing.

When she used to take me as a kid, I'd scavenge the area one of those spinning clothing racks and plop down inside and pray to God that Macy's just randomly decided to close early for the day so I could go home and watch Phil of the Future. 

Back to the present, now.

I found myself blurting, "Sure. I'll come." when mom mentioned she needed a skillet.

There's one part of Macy's that I do like. Heck, one part of all stores I like.

And that is the cookware/bakeware section.

Those places are treasures.

Anyway, flash forward to us standing in the cookware section. Macy's, level 3.

Bright spatulas and non-stick cookie pans.

Kitchen Aid mixers in any hue imaginable (mint green, lime green, sea foam green, aqua green, forest green). (And they were on sale! For $350. Which is still extremely expensive, but a girl can dream.) (PS: I'd pick the Kitchen Aid mixer over a pair of Louboutins any day.) 

On a blindingly white, immaculate table was the skillet my mother needed. It was marked down and as she calculated which of her coupons she should use to get the best deal, I made my way to the other side of the table.

Sure enough, Jesus had been resurrected next to a Pyrex measuring cup.

Well it wasn't actually him.

It was a panini maker. But close enough.

Quick fact about me: I totes magotes heart paninis. If I go somewhere that has a panini on the menu, I order it. (Check out my post about sandwiches! :)

They say when you fall in love, you just know, y'know. 

I'd never really believed that. Until: The Panini Genie.

That's the name I gave it. Cute, huh?

I am just rambling on and on like a blabbermouth. Or like a Panini Genie owner. You decide.

ANYHOO: My mom gave the green light to buy the panini maker. I swear I ain't ever smiled so big.

The second I got home, I made a panini. 

French bread, crusty and toasty. Basil and walnut pesto that smelled like Italy. Smoked deli turkey folded gently. Fresh tomatoes sliced thinly. Vibrant spinach leaves and all their antioxidant glory. Cheddar cheese shredded finely.

I had so much fun making the panini. I channeled Giada and pretended I had my own Food Network show. It was cool till my grandma walked in the kitchen and said she'd ask God to give me a brain.

The final product was restaurant worthy. And I don't mean that lightly.

And I think it's because I was okay with it turning into a big floppy mess. It was my first time making a panini. Perfection was not expected.

Oh but perfection I got.

I've made them for my family and they've been a hit! :) So far, I've tried two different types of french bread but I want to experiment with more!

 Thanks for reading and I hope you liked all 57 pictures of the paninis. Have a wonderful day. :)