It seems I only had spoons and brainspace for the cooking bits of my aspirations for this weekend, but that's okay. After the frenzy of chopping and cooking tornadodom early yesterday afternoon I seemed to need the downtime and rest while stuff was actually doing the whole cooking thing, so I have no real regrets other than the usual nagging "I have to work tomorrow and the house is a mess and I haven't gotten anything done!" litanies, and since the last item is blatantly untrue (WTF, brain, were you absent all weekend?) and the house is actually better looking than usual owing to
cell23 and I cleaning the kitchen, picking up around the living room and getting the bags of recycling out of the house yesterday, I'm cheerfully ignoring the little voices and resting on my laurels.
The tomato sauce came out the pot this morning after seventeen hours of cooking (!) and was quite yummy, though had more of a chili note than a pasta sauce underpinning to the taste. More wine, garlic and sugar needed I think. A jar of it is in the fridge in anticipation of a pasta night later this week (maybe) and several containers of it are in the freezer. I then cleaned out the pot and filled it with the split pea soup components I'd assembled yesterday, three large smoked pork neck bones (yeah yeah, insert your favorite southern black stereotype here) and a couple quarts of chicken stock; eight hours later there was some seriously delicious soup waiting to be boxed up and frozen for lunch. That came out
perfect - other than swapping out turkey neck for pork, it tastes pretty much exactly like Ruthy's. (Maybe better, but don't tell her that! Or Dad for that matter!) Even dinner last night was damn tasty, being my usual OJ chicken fancy dinner standby, and I think I've finally solved the dilemma of getting the gravy for that to thicken up in a reasonable amount of time (how long have I been making that? five years? sheesh) and since I made a whole tray of breasts a couple of those are portioned out and boxed up for lunch too. My goal really is to quit nickel and diming money on food, be it lunches, dinners or snacks; it adds up alarmingly fast (I do like to eat when intestinal drama permits it) and when I do the math at least 3/4s of where my money disappears is down my throat. (shut up.) Need to cut that shit out if I'm ever going to a) save b) pay down anything. Hopefully between the split pea and the potato leek soup, the chicken and pasta, I'll get that in better control, at least for the next couple weeks.
Still need to figure out what I'm going to do with the last few tomatoes, cause I need to do
something and no bites on anyone possibly taking them. I ended up freezing the carrot greens; maybe I'll just blanch, puree and freeze for later? I suddenly wish I'd paid attention when Carole was teaching herself to can vegetables. :/ A project for next summer maybe, depending on whether I decide to do the whole tomato vines in pots thing again. Also kinda wish I had a juicer.
I wasn't cooking QUITE the whole time this weekend -
cell23,
deliriumdeva and I did make a trip down to the diner late last night for coffee and light fare and shooting the shit with
lysscat, which there was plenty of because the diner was
dead for a Saturday. You guys, there's this Greek coffee frappe on the menu that not only is delicious, but had so much caffeine that I was sorta seeing funny auras around stuff after drinking half of it. *chuckle* not that
lysscat didn't try to warn me that I'd probably start vibrating after drinking one, but at the time that seemed like more of a recommendation than a deterrent. Still is. Whee.
Speaking of interesting effects on brain chemistry, I am current buzzed nigh unto tipsy; in celebration of getting a prodigious amount of slow cooked stuff done, I cracked open one of the licor43 nips and had that celebratory cocktail I'd been craving since first having this stuff at Christmas. And oh.... dear fates, it's just as good as I remember. And as
potent. I now know why two glasses at Stanley's had me more than a little wobbly for a while - this sweet sneaky shit is 62 proof, which is murder to a lightweight like me and yeah, I notice that my already miniscule tolerance to alcohol has vanished along with my weight so I'm being good and only having one tonight. I'll save the other nip for when I need a treat with a punch.
cell23 seems to be on a "so many drugs were involved in the making of this movie" jag on Netflix - over the past few days I've sat through most of both Hunter S. Thompson movies (Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Where the Buffalo Roam) and today, Cannibal; the Musical. (I don't necessarily blame drugs for that one - Trey Parker and Matt Stone kind of naturally excrete crack into their bloodstream from some gland or another.) Also rewatched Hot Tub Time Machine, since cell23 had never seen it and it's just amiably silly enough to survive a second watching a year or so later. Currently behind on all of my TV watching other than Doctor Who. Still need to make a media consumption post at some point. Argh.
I think right now I need to eat something to soak some of the Cuarenta y Tres out of my blood though.