Deb's Lunch ... and dinner and breakfast too » cocktails

My cat is so smart

DebS — Sun, 17 Jul 2011 03:42:21 +0000

Or, at least, one of them is. We have two black & white cats. They’re sisters, or littermates, more correctly, I guess. They have names, Holly & Ivy, like the Rumer Godden story, but one is more black, and the other more white, so naturally, we call them the black one and the white one. (Mark likes to call the white one Blanche and the black one Sharpie – for the little dot on her face, but that’s just Mark.) Anyways, the black one is skinner and smarter. The white one is softer, fatter, and dumber. But she has a pretty pink nose.

The other day, I was charmed to discover that the black one knows the sound of the butter dish – she came running into the kitchen when I got it out, in hopes of a lick. Earlier today, she followed me into the basement – both cats usually do, because that’s where their food is – but instead of mooning around by her dish hoping for some kibble, when she saw I was washing the supper club tablecloths, she remembered that food bits often drop out when I’m doing that and came over to prospect.

I was washing the table linens post- the second of the small plates buffets. There was a nice crowd – Rachael’s betrothed, Iain, is visiting, and they essentially hosted. The little lime-coconut cakes were my favorite of the sweets. I made ginger syrup, and made a cocktail of ginger syrup, ice, champagne, and lemon wedge – like the best ginger ale you ever tasted. I think that ginger syrup is going to have come out again next week in the trifle.

I bought about 2 pounds of raspberries at the farmers’ market today, and turned them into raspberry sauce – or Edna Lewis sugared raspberries, from How to eat supper – because Scott Peacocock’s book’s not out yet. Even though it’s only July, and hot as hell, it was the first bit of putting food by for the winter. The sauce is raspberries mashed in a big bowl with sugar – kind of a lot, but you need it to preserve the raspberries: 2 cups per pound. I cut the sugar down just slightly, using a little more than three cups for my 2 pounds. The clean up took longer than the preparation.

Glasses drying after the small plates buffet

A bowl of sushi rice

Lime-coconut and cherry cupcakes

Another view of the cupcakes

Raspberry Sauce, jarred up

Tools used for making and jarring the raspberry sauce

Little drinkie, little snackie

DebS — Sat, 05 Jun 2010 19:38:38 +0000

Both Mary Corsini, my parents’ good friend and charmingly wacky, superstitious, next-door neighbor lady, and Lea Worcester, the Mary Corsini of my generation, would often have occasions when they’d invite you to come by, for a little drinkie, little snackie – basically cocktails and appetizers. When my brother lived in Minneapolis, and was married but childless, I remember some pleasant happy hours with him and my sister-in-law, and sometimes our parents, too. We’d have a martini, or gin & tonic, or maybe a beer, and olive tapenade, melon salsa & chips, cheese & crackers. Maybe some partially cooked broccoli “trees” for my mom. Nuts.

Last night I tried to arrange such an occasion. One of my friends had a birthday May 31, and I invited her and a few others that didn’t make it. I had a little too much food per the number of people. Our enjoyment was also marred by the presence of a gang of middle school girls at their most sullen and unpleasant.

I made a Cafe Flora curried lentil spread – got a ton of that still – but I think it could enrich the sauce of any other curry I choose to make in the near future – and, farther term – I think I can freeze it. I grilled 3 pitas lurking in the back of the fridge, and the three of us ate all but a few wedges. I got out some cheeses & grapes, and bought a few olives – no problem dealing with any of these leftovers. Oh, and I made apricot chutney – guess I’ll have to use it inside a baked Brie sometime.

I took a bunch of pictures, but of course, John is way better with my fixed lens than am I. Still the outdoor ones look pretty good.

The hazards of eating

DebS — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 22:13:02 +0000

I’m sitting at the hair salon listening to the singer from 10,000 maniacs – oh Natalie Merchant; only took me 2 hours to recall her name – with a lotta horns behind her, dabbling at my bleeding mouth. I wolfed a slice of toast in between getting home from work and getting in the car to drive here. The crust of the toast stabbed the corner of my mouth and it bled – my mouth that is, not the toast – a shocking amount. It was my home made bread, with Swiss cheese and Siracha, so I still enjoyed the toast despite the blood. I have always been sort of disappointed at how difficult it is to put me off food - I wish I was a frailer flower, or someone who could just forget to eat – I’m sure I’d be pounds lighter. I almost always eat.

Case in point, I came home from the haircut and enjoyed a light pre-symphony supper of chex mix, tea, and rice pudding. I could blame some of this on a non-drinking boyfriend – but that wouldn’t be very nice. Maybe I should just say it’s because we’re Midwestern hicks. Other, more sophisticated people, would head downtown and have a pre-symphony cocktail at the art museum, but not us. Not tonight, anyhow. The pudding’s from Waitrose, maybe that ups our sophisticate rating just a touch …

Slow baked rice pudding