Jan. 1st, 2014 11:33 am
Mit dir möchte ich immer Silvester feiern
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muckefuckThe crabcakes made from Last Days of Dominick's discounted lump crabmeat are firming up in the fridge--one hopes. Otherwise, it's going to be a very messy lunchtime meal. I thought about making a hollandaise, then I looked at the ingredients and was like, "I know we've been insane with the fat calories lately, but that would be insane insane." Meanwhile, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu is getting a nap in before 25 friends and acquaintances descend upon our house. Or not--snow's been falling since early yesterday evening, so we'll see how many hardy souls manage to dig themselves out and make it here.
Last night we had our traditional coques. Inspired by talk of lucky foods on Facebook I added smoked sausage cut into coin-like rounds to the one topped with greens. Good idea, but I decided to go with kale instead of chard this year and, as a result, ended up with burnt kale chips on top. The mushroom coca (portobello and porcini--or, to be true to the cuisine of origin, xampinyons i ceps) was markedly more successful. I also ended with a half-size sweet coca topped with sliced almonds in addition to the usual pinenuts. A second (and, in the case of the last, third) rising made quite a difference, so I must remember to do that again next time.
I was so focussed on the food I nearly forgot about the gift exchange afterwards. The Old Man praised the look of his shiny new ashcan, justifying the effort I went through to find one that satisfied my surprisingly exacting requirements. That's sarcasm: Most people I spoke to seem baffled by the very concept. Those that weren't tended to suggest something that was massive, massively overpriced, or both. Container Store was especially vexing: two dozen different styles of waste recepticle and every one of them had a liner. They even had a small stainless can that would've been perfect except the bottom was cut out to make removing the flimsy plastic liner even easier. Unfathomable.
For his part, he tried to pick some of the "more interesting" books on my wishlist and did a damn good job. I started reading Céline Dion's Let's Talk About Love : a journey to the end of taste and could hardly put it down to get some damn sleep last night. (In fact, what am I doing here instead of reading it some more? Oh, right, I'm supposed to be putting the house in order.) I really shouldn't be starting a new book when I'm still in the middle of L'ingratitude, Winter's bone and Wang Gang's English but maybe I'll get lucky and they'll close work tomorrow. (Hah!)
Of course, the present that really mattered to me wasmonshu's card, which I knew would bring me to tears and did. How incredible is it that the best thing to ever happen to you thinks you're the best thing to ever happen to him? I'm really excited about seeing how this year will work out for him; it's hard to think of many people who retirement would suit more. Already he's got a slate of projects lined up, starting with some curtains for his downstairs workspace.
monshu is getting a nap in before 25 friends and acquaintances descend upon our house. Or not--snow's been falling since early yesterday evening, so we'll see how many hardy souls manage to dig themselves out and make it here.Last night we had our traditional coques. Inspired by talk of lucky foods on Facebook I added smoked sausage cut into coin-like rounds to the one topped with greens. Good idea, but I decided to go with kale instead of chard this year and, as a result, ended up with burnt kale chips on top. The mushroom coca (portobello and porcini--or, to be true to the cuisine of origin, xampinyons i ceps) was markedly more successful. I also ended with a half-size sweet coca topped with sliced almonds in addition to the usual pinenuts. A second (and, in the case of the last, third) rising made quite a difference, so I must remember to do that again next time.
I was so focussed on the food I nearly forgot about the gift exchange afterwards. The Old Man praised the look of his shiny new ashcan, justifying the effort I went through to find one that satisfied my surprisingly exacting requirements. That's sarcasm: Most people I spoke to seem baffled by the very concept. Those that weren't tended to suggest something that was massive, massively overpriced, or both. Container Store was especially vexing: two dozen different styles of waste recepticle and every one of them had a liner. They even had a small stainless can that would've been perfect except the bottom was cut out to make removing the flimsy plastic liner even easier. Unfathomable.
For his part, he tried to pick some of the "more interesting" books on my wishlist and did a damn good job. I started reading Céline Dion's Let's Talk About Love : a journey to the end of taste and could hardly put it down to get some damn sleep last night. (In fact, what am I doing here instead of reading it some more? Oh, right, I'm supposed to be putting the house in order.) I really shouldn't be starting a new book when I'm still in the middle of L'ingratitude, Winter's bone and Wang Gang's English but maybe I'll get lucky and they'll close work tomorrow. (Hah!)
Of course, the present that really mattered to me was
monshu's card, which I knew would bring me to tears and did. How incredible is it that the best thing to ever happen to you thinks you're the best thing to ever happen to him? I'm really excited about seeing how this year will work out for him; it's hard to think of many people who retirement would suit more. Already he's got a slate of projects lined up, starting with some curtains for his downstairs workspace.![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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I know, right? For 20 years and more I've tried to figure out just how the hell that happens.
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Chuck
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