Jan. 2nd, 2014 09:06 pm
A day away
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muckefuckThere was a chance I'd go into the office today. Not a good chance, mind you, but enough of one that I didn't automatically take the day off. If I didn't drink too much or stay up too late cleaning up, I might've gotten a decent night's sleep. The latter condition was met, but not the former: I accepted two cocktail challenges, which was at least one more than I needed in order to keep a clear heard. Both qualified as successes.
First Scruffy challenged me to make the blueberry liquor he'd brought before drinkable. I knew I'd need to cut the sweetness and settled on lemon juice since lemon is a natural pairing for blueberry. But I was stumped on the strong until I happened to think of sloe gin. Three parts gin to one blueberry plus a squeeze (about half a tablespoon) of lemon juice ended up being about right, at least according to two other tasters.
The Douglas fir eau de vie brought by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lhn and prilicla also suggested a gin-based solution: a three-to-one "fir-tini". I momentarily considered using the Letherbee's until I recognised this for the insanity it was and went with Bombay instead. This eau de vie is considerably more mild than the infamous "Pine-sol liqueur" and I think more could be done with it. Having had a particularly successful fir-flavoured chocolate in Toronto, I'm particularly interested in trying it in a sweeter preparation. (The fir-tini is, as you might suspect, rather dry to say the least.)
Afterwards I found a nearly-empty bottle of cognac (as well as a bottle of vin santo the Old Man had completely forgotten about) and decided to usher it gently into that good night. The party was down to a pleasant core of a half-dozen and I was no longer having to hop up to open doors or mix drinks, so I could sit back and enjoy my guests. They never got to be too many; the one advantage to the terrible travel conditions is that it allowed us to spend a generous amount of time with everyone. Not as much as we might've liked (with the exception of Coleman, who wasn't even on the guest list but got wind of the gathering and crashed), but then it never is.
Luckily for us we'd bought supplies close to the date so we'd held back and, as a result, don't have more leftovers than we can handle: just one turkey breast, most of a smallish ham, a pound or so of gingerbread, and some bits of salad. Oh, and a shitload of chocolates and fudge, but that stuff keeps. The black cake was an even bigger hit than last year; hardly any survived the day. And hoppin' john (both veg and non-veg), beet salad, and Snore King's sugar cookies were all big hits.
If my hangover wasn't excuse enough, I had two other solid reasons: the snow, which was over nine inches by morning with wildly varying amounts predicted for the rest of the day (that's Lake effect for you); and a summons from an old friend. A college buddy--president of the queer student group when I was secretary and leader of the coming-out group before me--who'd I'd gotten in touch with as a result of the oral history project was in town for a conference and wanted to meet up.
Asmonshu can attest, I had cause to regret my promise to meet him. But my mid-morning the snow was tapering off and I was beginning to feel more human. I dozed on the train, but the bracing air made me a bit giddy. From the first moment, he was exceedingly warm and we spent a good two hours at the Purple Pig catching up and rehashing old times. He was dubious about the pig's ear, but I sold him, and in return I let him order the caponata, which I ate most of along with the charred cauliflower. Never before have I eaten so much in the way of vegetables and so little in the way of pork there.
Afterwards I swept into Eataly on an errand from the Old Man and left with my arms full. I really would like to be able to leave that place sometime without dropping $30+. But now I know that they do a fine cup of molten chocolate and porchetta that isn't a patch on what I had at Porchetta & Co. in Toronto. Tomorrow I'll be able to tell you if their fresh squid ink pasta is really worth the top dollar it commands.
Had I been thinking more clearly when I was trying to get myself out the door, I might've been able to make plans withbunj as well and complete my last gift exchange of the season. But as it was, I escaped downtown just as another "snow squall" was beginning to complicate the commute. When I reached the hood, visibility was down to a block or so and diminishing rapidly. Then, after an hour of getting cozy, the snow abruptly halted, the sky cleared, and for one thrilling moment everything was suffused with a rosy light.
Needless to say, there won't be any of that when I rise tomorrow to face my first day of work in nearly two weeks. Clearly I've got as much of a knack for retirement as the GWO. Shame I haven't earned the right to exercise it.
First Scruffy challenged me to make the blueberry liquor he'd brought before drinkable. I knew I'd need to cut the sweetness and settled on lemon juice since lemon is a natural pairing for blueberry. But I was stumped on the strong until I happened to think of sloe gin. Three parts gin to one blueberry plus a squeeze (about half a tablespoon) of lemon juice ended up being about right, at least according to two other tasters.
The Douglas fir eau de vie brought by
lhn and prilicla also suggested a gin-based solution: a three-to-one "fir-tini". I momentarily considered using the Letherbee's until I recognised this for the insanity it was and went with Bombay instead. This eau de vie is considerably more mild than the infamous "Pine-sol liqueur" and I think more could be done with it. Having had a particularly successful fir-flavoured chocolate in Toronto, I'm particularly interested in trying it in a sweeter preparation. (The fir-tini is, as you might suspect, rather dry to say the least.)Afterwards I found a nearly-empty bottle of cognac (as well as a bottle of vin santo the Old Man had completely forgotten about) and decided to usher it gently into that good night. The party was down to a pleasant core of a half-dozen and I was no longer having to hop up to open doors or mix drinks, so I could sit back and enjoy my guests. They never got to be too many; the one advantage to the terrible travel conditions is that it allowed us to spend a generous amount of time with everyone. Not as much as we might've liked (with the exception of Coleman, who wasn't even on the guest list but got wind of the gathering and crashed), but then it never is.
Luckily for us we'd bought supplies close to the date so we'd held back and, as a result, don't have more leftovers than we can handle: just one turkey breast, most of a smallish ham, a pound or so of gingerbread, and some bits of salad. Oh, and a shitload of chocolates and fudge, but that stuff keeps. The black cake was an even bigger hit than last year; hardly any survived the day. And hoppin' john (both veg and non-veg), beet salad, and Snore King's sugar cookies were all big hits.
If my hangover wasn't excuse enough, I had two other solid reasons: the snow, which was over nine inches by morning with wildly varying amounts predicted for the rest of the day (that's Lake effect for you); and a summons from an old friend. A college buddy--president of the queer student group when I was secretary and leader of the coming-out group before me--who'd I'd gotten in touch with as a result of the oral history project was in town for a conference and wanted to meet up.
As
monshu can attest, I had cause to regret my promise to meet him. But my mid-morning the snow was tapering off and I was beginning to feel more human. I dozed on the train, but the bracing air made me a bit giddy. From the first moment, he was exceedingly warm and we spent a good two hours at the Purple Pig catching up and rehashing old times. He was dubious about the pig's ear, but I sold him, and in return I let him order the caponata, which I ate most of along with the charred cauliflower. Never before have I eaten so much in the way of vegetables and so little in the way of pork there.Afterwards I swept into Eataly on an errand from the Old Man and left with my arms full. I really would like to be able to leave that place sometime without dropping $30+. But now I know that they do a fine cup of molten chocolate and porchetta that isn't a patch on what I had at Porchetta & Co. in Toronto. Tomorrow I'll be able to tell you if their fresh squid ink pasta is really worth the top dollar it commands.
Had I been thinking more clearly when I was trying to get myself out the door, I might've been able to make plans with
bunj as well and complete my last gift exchange of the season. But as it was, I escaped downtown just as another "snow squall" was beginning to complicate the commute. When I reached the hood, visibility was down to a block or so and diminishing rapidly. Then, after an hour of getting cozy, the snow abruptly halted, the sky cleared, and for one thrilling moment everything was suffused with a rosy light.Needless to say, there won't be any of that when I rise tomorrow to face my first day of work in nearly two weeks. Clearly I've got as much of a knack for retirement as the GWO. Shame I haven't earned the right to exercise it.