Monday night at my house = soup, stew or chili night. More or less. My menu ideas are always so broad, the esoteric details not typically revealed until right at prep time. If I know, vaguely, what sort of thing to make, I work from that point and use what I've got. Am I doing a casserole? A stir-fry? Pasta? Each category gives me a good beginning direction and I take what's in my pantry, my fridge, and go from there. I can follow recipes but it's more comfortable for me to throw things together, some of this. . . a little of that. . . the way my boy does in the backyard. Holly berries, dry leaves and dog water? No problem. I got chili simmering (my old 3 bean + quinoa standard) early enough today -before lunch even!- and had visions of an early dinner and an early bedtime (for the children, anyway; more light means they stay up so late and the husband and i zonk out soon after and lose out on any grown-up teevee watching time) but an unplanned late nap and all the other things that come to a head in the late afternoon happened and here it is now: just after six and I'm my second jam jar into a bottle of cheap pink wine and the cornbread's still in the oven.
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