Mum and I make our annual pilgrimage to Laura Ann Farms to pick out a grave wreath and visit Nick & Gram. Boom will meat us at the cemetery then we’ll have lunch up the street. I’ll make my annual loop, and stalk the old house on J’s street. Mum and I won’t caravan up to the lake; our traveling speeds don’t match up. But I should cut mine down by 10 mph to avoid the now annual Delaware county speeding ticket. But the road, officer, it gives me such pleasure. Whomever laid it out—I’d think likely the native peoples—has it following the bends in the river. The bald eagles should be back from Canada so I’ll be keeping eyes peeled to peep some–more reason to cut down my mph.
Tonight is still slogging through holiday and year end hammer list. It’ll all get done before I leaf for Cali but currently my lids are getting heavy. I wanted to get this post in—one towards daily, no holidays, no weekends (though I’ve just taken a couple days off. ouch.)—for I ate my last prandium at home for the year.
It’s Sunday night and a holy day. Saturnalia for the polytheists–as yesterday was solstice I’d also say the dates posted on Wiki are off. La lune accroche la pleine haute au-dessus de nos têtes ce soir. There have been big big winds tonight; some almost big enough to lean back into for a lift, but I didn’t make it to the spot to catch the biggest wind. Tant pis. I think I will take a resolution for the new year and finally learn some proper French. So to the humble meal.
A bit too long in the crisper green beans sauteed with my last shallot
One good handful des haricot verts and wash them in their baggie. Take the whole bunch in your hand. Line up one end on the chopping block and chop the tips off, slowly, with the French knife. Turn the bunch around to line up the other end and chop the tips off. Then chop the haricots in half. Next do battle with the last shallot standing. Chop the ends, skin it, then skinny slice it from the long end to the other. Haricots and shallot in a pan heating a tablespoon of olio and double pat of butter. The wooden slant edge spatula stirs the sauté until the shallot surrenders to General Maillard* at Revereware Glen. Piper nigrum, sel, crushed red pepper. A tall teaspoon Italian bread crumbs over top and sauté until still crunchy but just tender—haricots denté. Served with a half cup or so lefty pastina and shaky parm (Yeah, yeah, yeah.) and pipermill. Seltzer.
I think this is what they call a comfort prandium.
Buen provecho y feliz festives..
*No need for schooling; I am aware it is indeed a carmelization reaction.