Saturday, October 18, 2014
It's been another long week at work. But my boss was out sick the last two days, so I was able to get a lot more done. My former carpool buddy has loaned me her spare car while her husband works on mine. I can't believe what kind of friends they've turned out to be.
Today I finally settled on what I'm making for the Halloween baking contest at work, and it'll involve FINALLY christening one of my Good Eats cookbooks. Alton has a chocolate pie recipe that looks spectacular. It's based on silken tofu (not going to mention that part), then swamped in chocolate -- chocolate cookie crumb crust, melted chocolate chips, Kahlua -- it looks amazing. I'm going to dress it up with a "spiderweb" made of white piping icing and "spiders" made from dark cherries. I saw how to make them from olives on Food Network this morning, but the same technique will work with cherries. Cherry halves form the bodies, and cherries cut into eight slices make the legs. I'll put them randomly on the web and hope everybody likes it.
Ex continues to recuperate at home, and Frank continues to tell him not to hurry (as he gets his pillow fluffed and his toes massaged). Frank does NOT want to leave Nurse Heaven!
Now it gets REALLY random.
When I was growing up my parents would both drink and snack all evening. My mother would eat most of a regular bag of potato chips just about every night. My father? Pretty much anything that wasn't nailed down. I've never been much of an after-dinner snacker (thank God), but I've noticed now that just about every other weekend I will eat a party-sized bag over the two and a half days (plus Friday evening). The weird part is that by the bottom of the bag I'm not even liking them. Somehow they put all the big pretty chips on top and the bottom is all greasy crumbs.
Then there's the wine. I enjoy whiskey or rum, but if I don't have it for a long time it's not even close to an issue. Ditto for beer. But wine is different.
Once I was watching an online episode of Chopped After Hours, where the judges from Chopped have to cook the competition basket. Then they share the dishes they made and also drink wine together. I didn't have any wine in the house that night, and I actually burst into tears. The wine to me represented all the fun, creativity and camaraderie they were sharing. it was a scene I wanted into SO badly. (And if a dream I had one night can be believed, judge Marc Murphy is an incredible kisser. But that's another blog post.)
Unique among alcoholic (or any other) beverages, wine occupies a huge place in art, literature, culture and even religion. And in a life that (right now, anyway) has very little grace to it, the wine feels like its one "grace note." This makes it very difficult to let it go.
I'm not even sure where I'm going with this. It's just something I've been thinking about.