This past weekend started with the best laid plans.
I got up really early on Saturday morning much to the chagrin of the 'husband'. It seems now I can't sleep in anymore. In my youth, with a cast iron bladder, 1pm was my usual on a weekend. Sleep was in my youth a solace, an escape and frankly one of my favorite hobbies.
Now I love the nothingness of Saturday and Sunday mornings, I savour getting a cup of coffee, returning to bed, flashing on the TV and reading the paper. I as usual flip to the weekend section for the meal and if that does not inspire, I glean through cookbooks to find the menu of the weekend. My Nirvana.
This weekend I tried in vain to find the perfect Duck Breast Recipe to fiddle with. I concocted the lovely marinate after reading pages in La Rousse Gastromique, The Joy of Cooking, Martha Stewart, Nigella Lawson's Nigella Bites and Forever Summer and Henri Paul Pellaprat. I decided my Duck, would go Caribbean. I used the usual, Orange juice, chopped red onion, fresh herbs and for the twist a shot of rum and a dash of bitters.
I then dashed off to the closest Chapters to see if I could get the new cookbooks my sister had recommended from Atlantic Magazine. No to be, they don't get released until latter in the year.
Not a total loss, I picked up French Leave and Clementine in the Kitchen. I was looking for the style of The apprentice by Jacques Pepin. A good story with a recipe or two thrown in for good measure.
And finally, the real reason I dashed off to the bookstore, Harry Potter.
Well, Potter sent me into a deep afternoon nap and when I arose, it was raining. I thought the Duck should be barbecued so it was Salad Compose, for dinner. A nod to Salad Nicoise.
Then today, the 'husband' decided to clean house literally. He flooded the kitchen. Now I am not writing this in spite, as it is something I would normally do and he would clean up the mess. Earlier this month I, after he had toiled to repaint, I in haste to repack the shelves in my order had cracked the counter with a Pyrex lid which I dropped from the top shelf and bounced across the counter and smashed to bits on the floor. (when you drop that stuff it goes everywhere) His concern, not the counter, was if I was hurt, I did gash my leg.
I could hear the dripping, but the dishwasher was on so it muffled it....And I was reading. I was the one to tell him not to put the California Pottery in the dishwasher. He didn't, and he put it in sink and left the kitchen to watch the TV. He also forgot to turn off the tap.
Now I am not that organized of a person. I am gifted with a good memory which allows me to remember where I read something or put something and locate it quickly. One thing I am good at is keeping my Magazines in order and locating the recipes in which section at the bottom of our cellar stairs. I have 5 years of magazines about cooking there organized by publication, season and date. Which have now been flooded.
The 'husband' is inconsolable,,,,,but the kitchen floor is spotless, that new countertop is closer than I thought, maybe a new sink with a safety drain. The sun has finally come out and the duck breast can be cooked.
But SHUSH, Could the AGA and Hermes bag be fished out of this? Perhaps a new Hermes Scarf I think at least.
And after all, I needed to cull through those magazines and It was a bad year for Martha Stewart Living anyway.
This past weekend started with the best laid plans.
I got up really early on Saturday morning much to the chagrin of the 'husband'. It seems now I can't sleep in anymore. In my youth, with a cast iron bladder, 1pm was my usual on a weekend. Sleep was in my youth a solace, an escape and frankly one of my favorite hobbies.
Now I love the nothingness of Saturday and Sunday mornings, I savour getting a cup of coffee, returning to bed, flashing on the TV and reading the paper. I as usual flip to the weekend section for the meal and if that does not inspire, I glean through cookbooks to find the menu of the weekend. My Nirvana.
This weekend I tried in vain to find the perfect Duck Breast Recipe to fiddle with. I concocted the lovely marinate after reading pages in La Rousse Gastromique, The Joy of Cooking, Martha Stewart, Nigella Lawson's Nigella Bites and Forever Summer and Henri Paul Pellaprat. I decided my Duck, would go Caribbean. I used the usual, Orange juice, chopped red onion, fresh herbs and for the twist a shot of rum and a dash of bitters.
I then dashed off to the closest Chapters to see if I could get the new cookbooks my sister had recommended from Atlantic Magazine. No to be, they don't get released until latter in the year.
Not a total loss, I picked up French Leave and Clementine in the Kitchen. I was looking for the style of The apprentice by Jacques Pepin. A good story with a recipe or two thrown in for good measure.
And finally, the real reason I dashed off to the bookstore, Harry Potter.
Well, Potter sent me into a deep afternoon nap and when I arose, it was raining. I thought the Duck should be barbecued so it was Salad Compose, for dinner. A nod to Salad Nicoise.
Then today, the 'husband' decided to clean house literally. He flooded the kitchen. Now I am not writing this in spite, as it is something I would normally do and he would clean up the mess. Earlier this month I, after he had toiled to repaint, I in haste to repack the shelves in my order had cracked the counter with a Pyrex lid which I dropped from the top shelf and bounced across the counter and smashed to bits on the floor. (when you drop that stuff it goes everywhere) His concern, not the counter, was if I was hurt, I did gash my leg.
I could hear the dripping, but the dishwasher was on so it muffled it....And I was reading. I was the one to tell him not to put the California Pottery in the dishwasher. He didn't, and he put it in sink and left the kitchen to watch the TV. He also forgot to turn off the tap.
Now I am not that organized of a person. I am gifted with a good memory which allows me to remember where I read something or put something and locate it quickly. One thing I am good at is keeping my Magazines in order and locating the recipes in which section at the bottom of our cellar stairs. I have 5 years of magazines about cooking there organized by publication, season and date. Which have now been flooded.
The 'husband' is inconsolable,,,,,but the kitchen floor is spotless, that new countertop is closer than I thought, maybe a new sink with a safety drain. The sun has finally come out and the duck breast can be cooked.
But SHUSH, Could the AGA and Hermes bag be fished out of this? Perhaps a new Hermes Scarf I think at least.
And after all, I needed to cull through those magazines and It was a bad year for Martha Stewart Living anyway.
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