Somehow a week has managed to fly by & I've not much to show for it.... Many of Martha's commands of the past week have either been foiled by crappy weather, an overfull schedule of meetings & deadlines, impossibility, or sheer ridiculousness. Like Monday's "Prune weeping willows in the wetland while the ground is still frozen." With all the rain we've had of late, my entire yard is a wetland—though I've no weeping willows in need of pruning (I guess I could've braved the driving rain & tackled some privet & honeysuckle). And Tuesday's "Make glittered valentines; address and stamp envelopes" and "Assemble candies for heart-shaped boxes"—What am I twelve? I know Martha's hard up to unload her custom line of glitter in these hard times, but I'm not falling for it.
I did, however, fall for the cute little heart-shaped pies on the cookie-of-the-month back page, although I didn't get to them 'til much later in the week. Martha tells us to make pie crust in a food processor, well I don't own one of these (my cabinets barely have room for my Salad Shooter and combo mini-chopper/stick blender and my lime-green Kitchen Aid mixer lives out in the open on a shelf in the dining room). I took my pastry-making cues from the November '08 issue of Saveur that featured step-by-step instructions on making the perfect pie crust. I settled down with a ice-cold metal bowl and watched Keith Olberman's left-wing pontifications while working my fingers through a pile of flour & chilled butter chunks 'til they morphed into a lovely cohesive lump. Martha's recipe called for a filling of pears & fresh raspberries, but I happened to have apples & craisins on hand—where the hell do you get fresh raspberries in February and why would you wanna ruin them by baking them into a pie?! My version simmered on the stove for an hour or so & got stashed in the fridge with the dough for the night.
The next morning I got to assembling them. I don't own a 4-inch heart-shaped cookie cutter, so I fished an old bean can out of the recycling bin, scrubbed it out, & bent it into a slightly wonky heart shape. Martha didn't recommend to crimp the pies' edges, but I figured this would be a good idea lest the filling come oozing out in a sticky mess. It was a pretty labor-intensive process & I ran out of filling toward the end (the last 3 pies got a scoop of marmalade which actually did run out in a sticky mess), but I've gotta admit, they're really friggin' cute!
Martha also commanded me to "Make compost tea for plants in greenhouse." I don't have a greenhouse, but I do have a collection of houseplants that occupy assorted cobwebby corners in my bedroom & bathroom. They're definitely looking rather sickly as they await their springtime return to the front porch and could use a litle pick-me-up. To make a proper compost tea, you're supposed to use aquarium equipment to aerate the compost/water brew. I don't exactly have that stuff kicking around, but I figure I'll give it a good stir & maybe blow through a length of pvc pipe to add some bubbles to it once in a while.
Apparently Martha spent Thursday attending the opening day of New York Fashion Week and having cocktails with friends. For my fashion quest, I managed to drive out to the Goodwill past the mall & pick up a few new button-downs for Charles to wear to work and a green wool sweater that I hope to felt into a fun purse some time in the near future. As for the cocktails, a hot bath with my friend Sailor Jerry will have to do.
Friday arrived with a threat of snow, an occasion to freak the fuck out here in the deep South. My compost tea had developed a respectable crust of ice & I'm thinkin' not much biochemical action is happening under such conditions. By mid afternoon the flakes had started coming down and I'd yet to make it to the post office to mail off my valentine pies (so what if they won't get there 'til the middle of next week—like me, my loved ones aren't exactly sticklers for a schedule). I braved the icy conditions & went on an errand run—from the looks of the mobs at the grocery store you'd think a nuclear winter was nigh. I also decided it was a perfect time to visit the garden center and pick up ingredients for my seed starter mix. My seeds had arrived in the mailbox and I decided to stare down the wintry mix with some kind of proactive gardening activity. Close to five inches were on the ground by midnight—a pretty respectable accumulation for these parts—and it made for the perfect excuse to stay in and eat leftover pizza, watch the Olympics opening ceremonies, and make vanilla cinnamon cake layers for my pal Lysa's 40th birthday party Saturday night.
Saturday was occupied with enjoying the winter wonderland. The world was bright and sunny & stuff was melting fast! We assembled a posse of friends & neighbors & our accompanying pooches & set off for a long walk around the 'hood, down the tracks, and through the woods. The rest of the afternoon had me wrestling with the tiered birthday cake. I'd hoped to make a nice dark & shiny chocolate frosting, but the recipe I lifted off the internets was sticky & gooey & set like fudge as it cooled. I one and a halved it and still had to make a second batch to cover the whole cake. Needless to say, I was running pretty late for the surprise party, but so was the birthday girl ! As they say, "Birds of a feather....."
Several hours and many bottles of red wine later, Charles appeared at the party to chauffeur me & my drunkass girlfriends home. Apparently it took some degree of force as we threatened to ditch him at a stoplight and make a mad dash for a local bar for late-night disco. The child safety locks on our Honda actually had to be deployed.
Valentine's Day found me hungover & we eventually made it out for brunch after tracking down at least one drunkass girlfriend to return her to the scene of her car. Charles & I celebrated our love by braving crowds of well-clad churchgoers and random pairs of heathens out for an awkward Sunday brunch post Saturday night hookup. I made it halfway through my Southern-style eggs benedict (two biscuits topped w/ a slice of country ham, fried eggs, and a puddle of sausage gravy) while Charles doused his homefries, pork chops, & eggs in hot sauce & inhaled the entire plateful. Back home, I immediately collapsed into a carb and cholesterol-induced coma and spent the rest of the afternoon in bed while my beloved slaved away over school books.
I did manage to arise by dark to resurrect those almost forgotten duck breasts.... A couple weeks back, I found a recent issue of Field & Stream laying on the toilet seat opened to a recipe for Duck Salmi—this is Charles' subtle way of requesting a particular meal and I figured Valentine's Day would be the proper occasion to make it happen. Salmi is a red wine-based mushroomy game stew—served over the toasted remnants of last week's home-baked bread, it was rich and hearty and finally put to rest my red wine-induced fuzzhead.
And by the way—yes, we get Field & Stream too. Some anonymous benefactor must've signed us up, but Charles actually re-upped the subscription as the writing is actually really good, it's chock full of pretty nature photos, and there are some great survival & hunting tips that will really come in handy when the shit goes down. If Martha had only included the occasional recipe for squirrel stew or illustrated instructions for field-dressing a doe, I might never have doubted her.
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