Twas The Night Before, Um, Tomorrow

The chicken is cleaned and brining in the fridge. The pumpkin tart is all fragrant and cooling on top of the stove. Out in the garage the table is set and decorated. All the various components of the spinach salad are chopped and ready to be assembled just before dinner tomorrow. Also in the fridge is the black bean hummus, its flavors mingling together overnight til they reach savory, spicy perfection. This weary chef can barely type! If not for the Leinie's Oktoberfest beer I'm drinking I probably would feel neither inspired nor capable. I'm in the midst of experiencing the Ballmer Peak. It amazes me how a single serving of an alcoholic beverage can calm the angry, misfiring nerves in my hands, brief though that interlude might be. So. Excited to be hosting my trivia team friends tomorrow evening for dinner. I should probably sleep now. I'll just be here a few more minutes. Admiring how the kitchen has returned to a sparkling clean state after all the activity here today. The pumpkin tart smells delish. Beer gone. Goodnight!

Intriguing Numbers

That's What I Call a Good Morning

Tradition!

Granted, culturally embedded food traditions don't make a whole lot of sense to outsiders. I'm half Norwegian and lutefisk doesn't make sense to me. And the thing about French chefs, in their desire to preserve tradition in the preparation and serving of an endangered songbird, petitioning their government to allow them to eat the ortolan is this. These tiny birds are captured and often blinded or merely kept in the dark so that they will gorge themselves. Thereby increasing their proportional fat so they will be ever so much more delicious when consumed. Prior to roasting the kill is accomplished by drowning them in cognac. I'm fine with people eating what they like to eat even if it grosses me out. To each his own. But the treatment of these birds is not only cruel, it's unusual to the point of fetish. As far as I'm concerned, this is a case where a groaning and slow moving bureaucracy is an advantage. Vive le gouvernement! 

The Beginning of Goodbye

It seems I am beginning the long process of saying goodbye to this house that has been my home for over twenty-eight years. There is a history of hosting dinner parties of all sorts. Milestone birthdays, graduations, holidays, a pre-wedding celebration. My favorite among these gatherings is the tradition of transforming my garage into a party space. Festive lights and candles and yards of fabric and libations help the guests forget that they are in a room designed for the storage of vehicles and outdoor furnishings. So on Saturday evening my trivia team is coming over to help me accomplish this first facet of farewell. One more garage party should be just right.

Charge!

I have sandals. I have boots. I have no practical, in-between footwear. And in-between weather has arrived. Karen needs a table for her indoor plants. It's Saturday. And we need to have a celebratory lunch in honor of her new job. So we're going to Sioux Falls. Yes, we have fully rationalized this. 
   

Channeling Rob Gordon

I've been thinking about a dear friend and this guy she's friends with. She's pretty specific about referring to him as a friend, no more, no less. I get the impression that he's a little crazy about her and would like to be upgraded at least to boyfriend. Then I got to thinking that he probably doesn't even crack her top five as far as what she's devoted to. In line ahead of him are the following...

1. Her daughter

2. Her profession

3. Her extended family

4. Her pets

5. Her animal rescue activism

Do keep in mind that this is my assessment from afar, for the most part intuited from what she has told me and what I get from observing the situation. Also that I have known her for over thirty years. I guess my point is simply that there is some degree of imbalance in most relationships. Things work if they each are getting enough of what they want and need despite this disparity. It's a delicate dance. It's the price of admission. It's what we're willing to settle for, because I firmly believe that Dan Savage is right, all of us do settle. If we didn't, more than likely we'd be alone. I do wonder if it's better to be alone if you don't qualify for the top five ranking. All I know is, if I didn't make the top five of my significant other's list, and I was aware of that fact, I would be sad, indeed. And it would likely be time to reassess the relationship. The price of admission has to be worth it. I expect that price is different for each of us.