After Christmas dinner:
The cooking wife (I cranked it up to ISO 1250 and turned off the overhead light. 1/100 sec exposure):
The camera is the Panasonic Lumix FZ8. It does a lot. We had been wanting an SLR, but Lindz had her eye on this one. It was quite a bit cheaper, and we really like it.
The time flew by too quickly. She and Bryan spent most of it hanging out together, as it should be.
At least it used to do something, unlike the 148 tons of plastic flowers, ceramic rabbits, artificial fruit and baskets of dried weeds that adorn every available inch of space in my mother's house. It's the same house I grew up in; perhaps I still have lingering symptoms of a childhood surrounded by crap I wasn't allowed to touch, in rooms I wasn't supposed to go into. Half of the ground floor of the house was effectively off limits because footprints on the carpet were unacceptable. Mom has been the sole occupant of the house for some years, so her bric-a-brac addiction has progressed unchecked. I don't know when an intervention will be necessary, maybe when doorways are blocked by decorative concrete geese. Anyway, this is one of my few conspicuously useless knick-knacks.
Another day of swearing, but this one went up satisfactorily. Today I spent some time up in the attic, also known as Itchy Hellish Realm. I needed to locate and reinforce a particular part of the soffit in order to support a cabinet full of dishes (the next stud over was 1 3/4" too far to the right to be of any help, of course). Boo hoo for me. I bring this crap on myself. 
We had some very tasty wines. In addition to Beaujolais and a number of my perennial Trader Joe's favorites, we had Schug Sonoma Hills Pinot Noir, Cocodrilo Mendoza Cabernet (a very tasty, polished Argentinian wine), and then we enjoyed two wines of note the next day: Three Rings Shiraz and Clarendon Hills Brookman Vineyard Syrah (a powerful leather, pomegranate and spice-packed brute that we drank for last year's anniversary).
I roasted a lot of garlic. Bryan took this pic, and it's only as much garlic as I could fit in my hand. There was plenty more. I pureed it and put most of it in the mashed potatoes, and a generous amount went into the garlic butter.
Here is the complete day's menu:Culinary Postscript: Gravy
I put a lot (probably a disproportionate amount) of care and energy into gravy. I think it is an often-undervalued item, a potent plate-unifier and vehicle for flavor. This year, I did not succeed in finding turkey wings on my last-minute trip to the Food Lion. I usually use these to make turkey stock so I don't have to rely on drippings from the main bird (they can get burned, it's a tricky, messy procedure to get them out of the pan, and you can't have them until late in the meal prep). Nevertheless, this year's gravy was good. I think my thin, sharp new Japanese knife played an important part. For the first time, I cut my aromatics truly fine. It makes a difference. Gravy is an expression of care, attention to detail, the innate flavor of the ingredients, and technique. Here is the 2007 Blauhaus Gravy:
Three carrots, brunoise cut
Three ribs of celery, brunoise cut
One medium onion, minced
Three cloves of garlic, minced
One bay leaf
One star anise
One chile de arbol
A fistful of fresh thyme sprigs
One sprig of fresh rosemary
One quart of organic chicken stock
One turkey neck
A gob of chicken Better then Bouillon, to taste
Turkey drippings (they didn't burn)
Blond roux (I think it was 3 tbsp of butter and about 1/3 c flour)
A bit of cornstarch at the end, as necessary
Sweat the carrots, celery, onion and garlic in a bit of olive oil. When they've softened a bit, add the chicken stock, turkey neck, anise, bay leaf, chile, thyme and rosemary. Simmer this slowly, stirring occasionally, while you're doing everything else. We're talking about a few hours here. Add water if you think you're reducing too much. Reduction means flavor, so balance how good it tastes with how much gravy you'll need.
Within an hour of service (but before you're dealing with getting the bird out of the oven), make some blond roux in a smaller (1 1/2 or 2 qt) saucepan. Strain the gravy into this roux pan. Squeeze what liquid you can out of the solids and discard them. Whisk. Whisk. Bring it to a simmer. Whisk. Adjust the seasoning with the Better than Bouillon (I treat it as salt in a situation like this). The gravy should be a bit thicker now. Cover it and set it aside, off the heat. Deal with the turkey and stuffing. At this point, I added the drippings while the bird was resting, and I thickened it just a bit more with cornstarch. The roux makes for a better consistency, so I didn't use cornstarch alone for thickening this.
One of the things I love about Thanksgiving is how this meal is the essence of what I see as the greatest cooking: turning humble ingredients into very special food. There were no expensive or exotic ingredients here. Next year, I want to get an heirloom turkey, or perhaps a goose, and one might consider that semi-exotic. To someone without a farm, perhaps it is. Anyway, that's next year.
Much to our delight and satisfaction, everything went as we hoped, with no nasty surprises. Everything is reconnected, with a few (but not all) of the hardware pieces installed. Just look at those pot & pan trays! And check out the ribbed glass in the wall cabinet!
It ain't easy being SuperCouple.
As coincidence would have it, it is also the day when Beaujolais Nouveau is released. It is a bright, tart, youthful contrast to the blustery fall weather outside.
The old French Bread recipe, little changed from what we ate as kids (I skip the egg wash, and I use olive oil instead of butter, but that's it).
Goodass crap. As a refined little apertif, I got a giant can of Budweiser Chelada style beer. Purely out of morbid curiosity. It is beer (sort of, it is Budweiser after all) with Clamato, lime and salt. It was kind of weird, as you might expect from a beverage built of light beer, tomatoes and mollusks. We dumped it out and drank some Ommegang Three Philosophers instead.
And here's me leveling one of the new beauties. It's actually made of wood, rather than sawdust!
And the payoff. this drawer is nearly three feet wide, and it comes all the way out. We're going to need some partitions in there. It's so big, you could call it zoning. Note the attractive masking tape flag serving as a drawer pull until the new ones arrive.
Bryan is in Michigan, and Lindz is in California. Oliver is staying with me, so the stress level around the house is pretty high.
I asked my brother over for dinner this week, and what does that unpredictable scamp do? He brings over the makings for California Rolls. We made most of them inside-out, unlike the ones pictured here. They were so freegin' good. He brought good crabmeat from Trader Joe's, and that made the difference. I had no sesame seeds on hand, but we made good California Rolls. Bryan is far more practiced at this art, and his rolls were perfect. Mine didn't fall apart, but the filling was off center like Marty Feldman's eyes in Young Frankenstein. I got creative with one roll, which I named the Hello Kitty Sourpuss Roll. I included some preserved lemon (with a bit of the salt removed by soaking), and it was pretty good. We drank $10 Italian red wine with it all (Tenuta del Portale Starsa Basilicata), and it was perfect. Then, we watched a violent Japanese animated film called Ninja Scroll. Not English-dubbed. Marvelous.
I'm not sure why the picture is slightly blurry. Perhaps the camera focused on the bit of exposed plate in the center, which was a bit further from the lens than the top of the rolls. We ate them, obliterating the possibility of a re-shoot.
It's more or less impossible to find raw fish that's suitable for this around here, so I made landlocked nigiri sushi. Sometimes I've seen "sashimi grade tuna," but I'm not so sure I trust that. 
Crust: Half whole wheat with fresh rosemary. Sauce: Caramelized onions and sweet red peppers. Toppings: Chicken/apple sausage and provolone cheese with fresh basil after baking.
Here's the exterior of the church:
From there, we proceeded to the reception at the Aquarium. You can see the Ravenel Bridge in the background, and the USS Yorktown is out of frame to the right.
Aquatic life surrounded us (there were sharks swimming by the buffet). Here is the bride dancing with her dad as the fish look on:
Lindz and I did some serious walking the next day. There were characterful old buildings and streets in every direction. This is an overgrown old graveyard next to a church, a spot we found after wandering through and old wrought iron gate.
It seems like we ended up with few pictures, and they don't do the town justice. The weather was perfect, if a tad muggy, and we had most of a day to wander. We did some fine eating, too....
Grill Bread:
I made a batch of pizza dough and smooshed it out flat. I rubbed a bit of oil on it. I threw it on a hot grill. Lindz and I made sandwiches out of it for dinner: grilled chicken, fresh mozzarella, heirloom tomatoes and pesto. French green beans steamed in a foil pouch with onions and vermouth constituted the side dish (all the cooking was done on the grill). Purdy good.
Ahh, there's nothing like a new knife. Lindz has yet to fathom my consuming fascination with cutlery, much less my newfound desire to know all about Japanese cutlery. This knife was made in Sakai, near Osaka. It is the Suisin Nihon-ko Western Style Gyutou, 210 millimeters in length. It is of carbon steel, so this is the only time anyone will ever see it shine. I prepared dinner with it, and it has already begun to develop its gray patina. It is half the weight and thickness of a European knife of the same length. It is perfectly balanced and wicked sharp. My Viking knife (Ringil) is a good knife, but it is the opposite of this Suisin. The Viking (made in Solingen, Germany) is heavy, thick and well balanced. The Suisin (I have decided to name it Usagi, the Japanese word for rabbit. Yes, I know this is intolerably nerdy) is light, thin and perfectly balanced. I like them both. This Japanese piece, however, seems to approach the "extension of your hand" experience much more closely. The shape of the blade is more to my liking as well. I will have to become familiar with it, and, more importantly, learn how to keep it sharp -- a Sakai knifesmith grinds a different edge on his wares than a Solingen one.
However, Alltel Pavilion at Walnut Creek is a different story. Once you're inside, it's nice. The connection (or lack thereof) to major streets is a problem. I propose a way to save the American taxpayer a ton of money: Take all the prisoners out of the expensive, overcrowded jails and put them all in the parking lot of Alltel pavilion at the end of a concert. THERE IS NO ESCAPE. Alcatraz was probably easier than it was for us to get home that night. Well, maybe that plan needs a little more work. Anyway, the traffic sucked.
Boo-hoo for us. Life is tough for us. As a gangster rapper once said, "If you ain't never been to tha burbs, then stay tha f##k outta tha burbs, cuz you wouldn't unnastand tha burbs."
Highlights include Magnificat, Napanook, three different Chateauneuf-du-Pape, Saintsbury Pinot Noir, Schramsberg Cremant, Frank Family Blanc de Blancs, two Champagnes, Ferrari-Carano Chardonnay, Qady Essensia, and Estancia Meritage. I'd say the winner of the red category was the deep, smooth-as-a-baby's-ass Napanook, and the winner of the sparkling category was the bracingly dry, toasty/minerally Frank Family. Luis has a keen palate and a true afiçion for the grape, and he has helped to elevate my appreciation for fine wine. Having him around is not helpful to frugality, but we truly had some splendid enological exploits.
We did our fair share of eating, too. I didn't cook as much as I usually do; we ate out or grazed more of the time. I did grilled salmon with sweet pepper coulis and grilled corn on the cob, but I took no pictures. In fact, we ate out more in a week than Lindz and I do in three months. But this was vacation. 42nd Street Oyster Bar was quite good; I had clams on the half shell for the first time. I liked them; they are firmer and meatier than oysters.
For dinner on our last night together, I made grilled boneless porkchops with a speck and sage sauce with herbed roasted potatoes. Lindz made the salad of greens, strawberries, blue cheese and balsamic vinaigrette. Tasty Chateauneuf-du-Pape and Pinot Noir accompanied it.
It was all a much-needed respite from the cubicle farm. Talk of travel, life and the future while enjoying the finer things is a restorative pastime.
