Toil

Ugh. I purposely chose to come into work for a single day this week because I was concerned that if I took eleven straight days off (much less went for a whole two-week block), I'd forget what it is I do. Even so, the experience at sitting at a computer screen without anyone else around at ten in the morning is a rather novel experience. (The only time this happened at my sister's was after midnight.) It's always an odd transition going from a house where there's continual friendly human presence to my own little apartment where it's just me and the stuffed animals. Thank goodness I'm off to Monshu's tonight.

It was tough to leave. Things had gone so smoothly and we were finally to the point where all stress was behind us and we could sit around and do whatever we wanted. On Christmas Day, after most of the guests had departed, we scrunched together on the couch to watch Monsters, Inc., which my brother-in-law and I had missed in the theatres. Very enjoyable film. (Do y'all think I could get fired for writing Sully/Abominable Snowman slash at work?) I was looking forward to watching my nephew play in the snow for the first time (with his new red wagon!), celebrating his parents' Good News, playing Cheapass™ games on the kitchen table, talking, joking, and laughing. But my flight would not wait.

I was sleepy. Mom and I had stayed up until two a.m. chatting about life, love, and happiness. I even asked her if she thought there really was a divine plan for the universe. She asked me what all the things that I wanted to say that time I blew up were and I gave her the most diplomatic answer I could. We talked a lot about our family's misfit status and everybody's self-esteem. (My brother-in-law is a pillar of it; my Dad is like a black hole.) Also, about the fact that I've never completely forgiven my father for being such an ass when we were younger--and I don't think I'm the only one. I wonder if he realises this or if he's simply puzzled when his offspring seem unwilling to make an extra effort to spend time with him. (rollick, consider that a belated partial answer to your last Monday Mini-poll.)

A list I've been meaning to do for a while

I'm not big on photos. I mean, I like 'em well enough, but I've never owned a camera. When I went to Europe for a year, I borrowed my older brother's and shot six rolls or so. But most of the people I met and the places I went never ended up on film. When I dress up for Halloween or whatever, I don't make a point of producing photographic evidence. If people ask me why not, I tell them, "You just had to be there."

However, if there is a picture, I'd like to keep a copy. This is a list of events I know were captured on film, but I've never seen the pics and I'd like to.

• Me wearing a dress and posing with Hannah Gray. (Graduation day, 1992)
• My younger brother and me staging a song-and-dance scene from Muriel's Wedding--or was it Priscilla? Definitely an ABBA tune! (Christmas Eve, 2000)
• Me and Lakshmi striking matching Bharatnatya poses (Earlier this year)
• Me flashing in the woods at Morton Arboretum (Thanksgiving weekend, 1998)
• Nuphy in a Santa suit (Christmas, 1995)
• The complete series of Major Arcana images we posed for at a friend's tarot party (Spring, 1992)

[more entries as they fall to mind]

Credit update

When I got back to my lonely little garret last night (it was only 4:40, but already dark--FREAKIN' NORTHERN HEMISPHERE!), I found a letter from CapitalOne, a letter from Discover®, and a phone message from Providian. CapitalOne was telling me they had closed my account--good riddance, fuckers! Discover® just gave me fifteen times the credit limit I had with you! Providian's anti-fraud department had called to "verify recent charges to your account". I thought, I wonder if this has anything to with my shopping binge two days ago. Sure enough! I asked the operator if it was the amount of the purchases that had tripped their suspicions, the fact that they were out-of-state, or both and she couldn't tell me. I suppose I'll find out if I ever LOSE ALL SENSE OF RESTRAINT some weekend in Chicago.

I had turned off ceiling fan while I was away and ended up staring at the ungodly amount of lint that had collected on it all through my evening phone calls until I could grab a towel and a trashbag and clean it off. At least it was true lint and not that slimy stuff that cannot be named that I know is lurking around for me to stumble upon in a barefoot moment. Upshot of the calls was that I confirmed my sister's Good News and made plans to see Monshu. He turned down ottr4bear's offer to meet us at Buddies tonight so that, hopefully, I can rest up and get over this sore throat in time to sip coffee at Meinl tomorrow and check out Bear Night next weekend. Are you coming this time, spookyfruit, you big pansy?

Da's Christmas Food Roundup

It belatedly occurs to me that I've talked a lot in my recent entries about family and fun, but very little about food. I suppose that's because there wasn't as much emphasis on it this season as in recent years. I had planned to hit the Christkindlmarkt and Piron right before I left, but then I got sick. So I showed up without chocolates for my hostess and bereft of German cookies.

Not that it mattered. As I said before, all it really took to make Christmas come was my sister's sugar cookies and e.'s polvorones. We also made chocolate pops from a great bar of Ghiradelli for the wee ones at the Family Christmas Party and a dessert for the grownups that was really half chocolate cake, half chocolate ganache. It was my sister's and my first experience with ganache because we never realised how gosh darn simple it is--it's really just whipped cream with roughly equal parts chocolate and cream.

Like the tres Rei Magi, bunj and e. came bearing gifts, including Basque and Galician cheese, a mongo star of Christmas cookies, and, of course, the fabled cheesecakes. I made the gooey butter (a St. Louis specialty) for Christmas day and had another revelation: It's really just a poor man's cheesecake with way too much sugar. (How much? When my mom first gave me the recipe, I could not bring myself to put that much sugar into a dish I was going to set before people I liked.)

The only restaurant meals I ended up having were some takeout from BM on the first or second day and lunch with my dad on the 23rd. We went to a place with mediocre Italian and American food and a phenomenal beer selection. My brother and I also picked up lambics for lunch one day and insisted everyone try them. My sister had the same reaction I always did to coffee until I discovered Meinl: "It tastes like beer."

That was one of several lunches we had from leftovers from the party. I wasn't as taken with the caterer's food as e. (although we were all terribly pleased with their professionalism and polish overall, random blazes notwithstanding), but I did find the roast beef very tasty. On the little rye rolls with the Butterkäse she brought melted over it, it was irresistable. We also had plenty of ham from Christmas morning, and I lamented I could only make one sandwich from it. My sister wanted to give me more to take with, but I don't like the idea of taking perishables on the four-hour journey from her door to mine.

My sister, btw, should plan every family get-together from now on. For Christmas brunch, she served simple dishes that she prepared in advance and just popped in the oven that morning while she was getting dressed. I insisted on soaking the ham overnight to desalt it, and I'm very glad I did. We also had "roadside spinach" (basically, half-spinach, half-cheese, and 100% delish), a breakfast casserole that e. compared to a frittata, the gooey butter, and a bûche de Noël brought by my stepmom.

She had actually called while I was lunching with my dad to ask if that was okay. I had to think a moment, because in the past we've often had a surfeit of Christmas cakes. (One year, I brought a Stollen, my mom brought a panettone, and someone else brought something, too.) Astonishingly, we didn't have a single one this year. The roscón (okay, technically rosca) de reyes that e. had planned to pick up wasn't going to be available until almost reyes (i.e. Epiphany), so I gave That Woman the go-ahead.

I was glad she was able to contribute something, since this was the first Christmas in years without her lasagne. (I think I've explained before that she's a Jew from the Bronx, so of course she makes lasagne every Christmas eve.) We had dinner with her and my father a day earlier than usual to simplify things. All in all, we did a great job of trimming the fancy meals to a bare minimum so we spent time together in the living room instead of brushing past each other in a frenzy in the kitchen. Even Mom's somewhat last-minute decision to fix dinner Christmas eve was streamlined by reheating leftover green beans and potatoes from the banquet. (Unfortunately--since they were pretty yummy--her cranberry mousse in chocolate dishes got forgotten about until Christmas night.)

As it turns out, I'll get my German goodies after all. Monshu called on Christmas morning (I was in the bathroom at the time, and the conversation with my brother, who had been sent to get me, went something like this:
bunj: (knock, knock) Da[...]?
muckefuck: I'm so totally in here!
bunj: [Monshu] is so totally on the phone for you.
muckefuck: Tell him I'll so totally call him back.
bunj: (into phone) He'll so totally call you back!) to let me know he'd made it to Daley Plaza both Sunday and Monday. Since the latter is closeout day, I shudder to think of the mountain of sweets awaiting me at his place tonight. He also got busy on Christmas and started a sauerbraten. (For years, my sister used to request one of these from me when I was home over Christmas.) Maybe we can devour it for New Year's, depending what our plans end up being.

Els tres Reis de l’Orient porten torrons a tota la gent

Una botifarra per la meva dent
Un tall de pa pel meu germà
Un got de vi pel meu padrí
I per molts anys els Reis!

Monshu gave me my Christmas present tonight (my suggestion to wait until Holy Innocents was met with undisguised scorn) and, given the entry I just posted, it was entirely appropriate: the newest edition of the Larousse gastronomique! Before he left for Toronto, I told him about spending a rainy weekend there passing much of my time perusing a friend's copy. We had looked online for a reasonably-priced used version some months before that and given up, so I didn't suspect a thing even when I saw the words Barnes & Noble on the box.

I'm a little disappointed with the editing; in less than an hour, I've already found at least three errors (mostly in foreign words). And though they've made a laudable effort to be more international with each edition, it's still primarily a resource for French cuisine. Some of their entries on Spanish cooking are just laughable. For instance, they have a separate entry for chufa and never once mention its primary use, which is to make the curiously refreshing Valencian drink called orchata. (Those of you who are saying "I know what that is! I had one at El Charro last night", you do not know what one is. That's like saying if you've eaten a White Castle slider, you know what a hamburger is. I love sliders, but in the same nostalgic senseless way I love gooey butter.)

But such cavils! What other resource am I going to pick up that includes eight recipes for cardoons, illustrates how to wrap an aumônière, and explains how to cook an endangered European species of bunting? It is an absolute treasury of geeky and useless (unless I suddenly gain the income to dine regularly in five-star French restaurants) food trivia! I could read it for hours!

Oh, and my Christkindlmarkt goodies included two brands of Schwarzbrot (chocolate-covered marzipan) and--since he didn't know which kind were my favourite--four kinds of Lebkuchen (Elisen-, Oblaten-, Ulmetten und Herzen). I am fully marchpaned and gingerbreaded, and it's not even the fourth day of Christmas yet!