Hi, how are you? Did you have a nice weekend? There’s a guy that I work with (two that I can think of at least) who must live for his weekends. Or he hates his job. Or both. But man oh man he cannot let a passing greeting of “Good morning” slip by without his snazzy response of ”For a Monday.” He’s that guy.
I was sick on Friday and remember little of it except once I got up because my back hurt from lying down for too long and so I schlepped out to the couch and passed out there for an hour or two.
Saturday we got cable (!) in anticipation of a very important game* the following day. I can’t remember much else of Saturday though I was feeling a lot better. I got offered lots of different fast food for my meals. M says that’s what happens when dad’s in charge and mom is sick. (Don’t be alarmed. No one’s pregnant. At least no one that I’ve written about here. I’m sure there are people out there that we know who are pregnant like Jim and LiAna for example and Ian and Amy for another. And don’t you think I’d let you know in a more personal way than in my blog??)
Sunday I woke up all jazzed to start my day despite only getting a few hours of sleep. Damned neighbors. I went to Ikea to buy curtain stuff, rods and hang-y things and what-have-you. And then lunch and more errands (Wow. I almost typed up all the little things that this entailed. Then thought better of it and condensed this to: more errands. Good catch. I need to remember to be more concise. Like how I’m not being right now. Right.)
The Game ™ started at 5 with M and Pekoe at the ready (Pekoe is the football buddy if you remember correctly). I put together dinner and Janet called repeatedly to harass m about his beloved team’s errors and setbacks. We invited them over for dinner but they foolishly declined. The menu was Cauliflower with Leeks au gratin (this is different in France. If you are french and reading this, it’s not the same when we say something here is au gratin as gratinee. It’s dumb, but I didn’t make up this translation), sauteed green beans with a wilted tomato sauce (very light and savory), butterflied leg of lamb roasted with a dry rub of herbs. Yum, yummy, YUMMERS. And freshly baked chocolate chip cookies for dessert. Our house smelled awesome last night.
I have this new theory about sweets. Let’s see how this works out. M has an insatiable sweet tooth. Particularly after a rough day at work, he’ll crave something sweet and chocolatey to console him. I love to tease him about it, but for some reason I have decided that the Betty Crocker desssert mixes that he buys (on mega sale) are evil. I really want us to eat healthy (and for the most part we do) and the thought of something so processed going into his system grosses me out. And I don’t want him to get into the habit of keeping such things around the house. So I figure if I bake him something that tastes so good and so tasty, he won’t need to reach for Betty Crocker or Duncan Heinz. Brilliant, right?
So last night was chocolate chip cookies. He got to eat raw dough to boot (gross. I tried some and was disgusted to find that it actually does taste good, but yeah…raw eggs. Gross.). The recipe I used was from Martha Stewart’s Holiday cookies book that was published last year. I’ve made three or four of the cookies from this book already and they turned out pretty good. The cookies last night were soft and chewy (just like I like ‘em) though a little flat. Perhaps a little more flour or a little less butter next time. The recipe was supposedly for 3 dozen cookies, but I think I’ll just get a little over half the amount.
Bets on how long this batch will last? I made 10 last night and five remain. For the sake of our respective dignities, I will not divulge who had 1.5 cookies and who had 3.5. The rest I put in the freezer cause I like my cookies fresh out of the oven. We can also bet on how much of the cookies will be consumed as raw dough and how much will be consumed as baked cookies. I wish I could devise an interactive graphic for this, but I just don’t feel like doing the research.
Next week’s dessert: Brownies? There’s an unfinished tray of the box stuff sitting on our kitchen counter right now. I take personal offense to them. I want to put those yucky things to shame so that he will never reach for that evil red box again. Am I mean?
*We’ve talked about this before. Or at least the conversation goes something like this:
me: How come you say this every weekend? Are they all Very Important Games or what?
he: That’s a good point! They ARE all Very Important Games.
me: Whatever.
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