May 10, 2013
I don’t have photos of last night’s dinner. It was one of those that had a lot of prep work but the dishes mostly came together at the last minute, and then it was time to eat, not take pictures. Sorry. It was good, and it was relatively attractive, too.
I’d invited a couple of friends, one of whom is engaged in a huge renovation/construction/business opening project at the same time as the other is preparing to stage a 10-day music festival (Oh! to be young again and have that kind of energy!) over for dinner. I’d thought about German food, as they’re both beer connoisseurs, but it had gotten warm, and, well, I hadn’t had any good Asian food in a while. So I hit three countries with a dinner that featured okonomiyaki, fried rice and bahn mi lettuce wraps, and added a side of steamed snow peas in sesame sauce, for good measure, before finishing up by a return to the South with strawberry shortcake.
May 8, 2011
Well. It’s been a busy Sunday. I have done laundry, clogged up and unclogged a sink drain, cooked enough to feed my starving young’uns while I’m gone for a week, and packed.
NS’s birthday is Tuesday, while I’m in Chicago, whence I am headed at oh-early-thirty tomorrow. Where I will go to the American Girl store and purchase my granddaughter her first American Girl doll, as well as to the Levis store to purchase her — well, you know. And where I will eat at Bistro 110, because I don’t care how out of style it is, I love it. And will have a drink at the Signature Lounge. And will eat breakfast at the Pancake House. And have a cocktail at the Violet Hour.
I love Chicago. More specifically, I love to just eat my way through it.
Then I’m off to Atlanta, where the dining is still decent, though not nearly what it ought to be in America’s what, fifth largest metroplex? A preponderance of chains. If I can recall where I ate in December, we’ll go back there; it was good.
And then I’ll be home Saturday, and home for a week, until I head back out to go see Child B and Stunningly Gorgeous And Intelligent Granddaughter. And THEN I’m home until the middle of June, so I can catch my breath.
Meanwhile, we have cooked. We have cooked huevos rancheros for breakfast, and brisket and sauteed sesame snow peas and roasted potatos for dinner, and a chocolate pound cake birthday cake in between. It has been a profitable, if tiring, day.
This brisket, I might note, is one of the better briskets I have ever cooked. I browned it, sliced and caramelized three onions and four cloves of garlic, added some tomato paste, some mustard, some brown sugar, a bottle of Guinness, four or five fresh sage leaves and two cups of beef broth. Put the brisket back in, clapped on the lid, and into a 325 oven he went for some 3 1/2 hours (he was about a 3-pound brisket). He could have been pulled earlier; he was so tender he was difficult to slice. I put the slices in a baking dish, pureed the gravy with my handy-dandy immersion blender, and poured that over it.
Yep. Sweet Baby Jesus brisket, that is.