racheld

I've always said Jaymes could nail Jello to the wall. Accommodating guests is one thing, and I stretch "gracious hostess" to its extreme outer limits, no matter what the provocation, but one "EWWWW" from an adult at our table would earn lifetime banishment, with no dessert. Cold Nellie Olesen stares and silence would greet such an exclamation, with a distinct chill on the air directed toward the rude one for the rest of the evening. I'd much rather entertain bores, blow-hards, buffoons, and even have fond memories of the extremely talented concert pianist whose after-dinner magic at the keyboard belied his over-consumption of pre-dinner drinks, resulting in his slow collapse, face in plate. After he returned from the powder room with the corn removed from his eyebrows, he was brilliant. And I like him much better than above Entitled Daughter, sight unseen.

By happy coincidence, that's our family's most-requested dish when Caro is in the kitchen---and it's usually for breakfast!! She comes home from work about dawn, chirpy and wide-eyed, ready to start chopping and sizzling, and when that garlic and ginger hit the hot wok together----!!! Heaven in a hot pot.

Lovely traipsing around the countryside with you---wish it were next week, so you could perhaps capture one of your birds on camera. (Not that they aren't THERE, even though your term hasn't started---I sounded like the silly lady who asked the highway dept. to move the "Deer Crossing" sign on down the road from her house, so those pesky critters would stay off her lawn). And the charming Bakeshop/Lunch place!!! Perfect in every way---the quiche especially caught my eye. (And perhaps you might, in the role of librarian to the owner, mention that you think the word she wants is "mesclun"---unless those are SOME out-of sight sandwiches and salads). Or have I blundered into a definition I'm not familiar with?

Did you get pictures? Never mind. I CAN SEE IT!!! I CAN SEE IT!!!

Good Morning, Suzi!! I, too, have been prowling in search of caffeine since about three, so we coulda had a little chat. I'm so glad it's you!!! The view from your window is one I could LIVE with forever---my little garden has been neglected all this hot, dry month, but these last few days of rain have given it and me a new lease on life. If it would work, I'd take this picture outside and flash it around. "Now, see---THAT'S what we've been working for!!!" Just beautiful. More, please.

There's more wit and wisdom on this one thread than has been uttered by the sum total of judges in the entire run of the three shows. I do, of course, except every golden syllable spoken or written by our own TB in the course of his exposure to all that mayhem. His words are sacred.

"Sunday night in August in Madrid. . ." Running through my head to several different silly tunes, most notably "Annie doesn't live here any more." A world away, a world apart, a whole lifetime and lifestyle and knowings of which I am no part. Just wonderful to be shared with and told about and kept informed. And did I see MAYO in the potato salad? I had no idea that was even possible. I DO wish to have been at the concert---I DO love some Poulenc, and of course, the Sorozabal and the Musetta. My college roommate used to practice in the adjoining "ironing room" with its echoey tiles and metal furnishings, and I'll always hear the little waltz in that frame, with the notes flying past in ricochet off lockers and pipes. It's been an adventurous week, tied to my armchair as I have been, and I thank you from my heart for such a rich, colorful, delicious tour.

David, are YOU blogging this anywhere? Your stuff is WAY better than the blog by that STRONG woman.

It sounds charming and friendly and very comfortable. All of which add to the enjoyment of any event, especially when there's FOOD. Chris and I are quite adept with chopsticks, and always find ourselves swapping little smitches and tastes back and forth, and when a piece is too big for a bite, we do the "assist" without thinking. He's even ambi-stick-strous, having broken a shoulder several years ago. While it was healing, he ate quite neatly left-handed.

Rumpole Rests His Case, with lots of breaks for lunch at Pommeroy's for S&K pie, apple tart, and Chateau Thames Embankment in the glass. There's one memorable dinner party with some tres retro acquaintances, whose shawl-swathed lamps and cavernous dining room were enhanced by sitar music and the odors of what seemed to be "ecclesiastical incense, smouldering carpets and simmering lentils." She Who Must Be Obeyed is not a shabby cook, either, and provides her Old Darling with a sound Brit breakfast of rashers, eggs, mushrooms, beans and tomatoes, with six crisp slices in the silver rack. Dear Horace.

This is wonderful. I've just jumped in for snips and snaps, and will read and enjoy the whole thing allatonce when I'm up and around again. It will be a lovely thing to look forward to with a big bowl of latte some morning soon. I was so reminded of a tall, svelte, young Beatrice Lillie singing "Vodka." Just scrumptious.

This ole thread just keeps bumpin' up and chuggin' along. And the stories are all grotesquely charming, in their way. Newly-Vegan friends will be here for Labor Day weekend, on their way up to Amish country (what a WASTE of all those splendid dinnertables, groaning with seven sweets and seven sours, and ninety other dishes in between). I haven't a clue what to think of to prepare for them, so we're mostly grilling---a garden full of zucchini and squash can't be ALL bad. They're welcome to all the tofunutloaf they can hold, but I won't be cooking any---it would be like the time a Japanese houseguest visited our home down South. Several friends jumped in with their own "authentic" Japanese recipes to serve her while she was there, but that would be like the time the Pope visited the USA, to be taken on a viewing of the Pieta, on loan to a museum here. (only on a VERY much lower, redneck-sort of level, and presumptuous to boot). We had Pinto beans with several pounds of ham silky-simmered in, and cornbread and devilled eggs and homemade banana pudding, all of which she wrote about for years after her visit. I DO love all these contributions. Anyone else? Please.

johnnyd!!! Maine!!!

Wow! What a great thread. I don't have any advice, but I'm enjoying these from the pros.

Why, Thank You, Sir, she said. I think I may have BEEN in that party of 17 a few years ago---would that have been when the Bride and Groom smiled, rose, and made their exit, just BEFORE the harried waiter came back with the check (thinking, of course that he KNEW who the hosts were---they'd reserved the room, brought in the cake, and were right there in their little wedding outfits). The happy couple strolled out into the night to take up their new lives, all rosy and happy, while all of US were left to tell the poor guy who was responsible for WHAT, so he could go divide up the check. And that had happened to us before, once, when we received written invitations in the MAIL to a birthday party, arrived to see the table all decorated, balloons on the Happy Girl's chair, etc. The two "hosts"---self-proclaimed "godfathers" of the honoree, ordered several platters of appetizers for the table, we all ordered from the menu, a good time was had by all, until. . . The poor waiter returned as we were getting into coats, scrambling beneath chairs for purses, etc., and was then informed by the hosts that he'd have to divide up the check. So we sat back down, motley-dressed in half-shrugged-on coats and gloves dangling ready, to await our turn to tell the waiter who was with whom. And if that were not bad enough, the two old gloomps didn't even claim the Appetizers---Chris and I paid for one orphaned Bloomin' Onion, and had already covered the check for a young lady who rose, flushed and embarrassed, and sought us out apologetically because she did not have the funds with her to cover her dinner. So---from a Service standpoint---have you encountered THIS kind of "divvy up the check" mayhem, when even the diners don't know until it's inflicted on them after dinner? Have you ever had to go around the table and auction off the items just to recoup costs? A pox on all "hosts" who invite, then sit back and let others pay for their party.

I could show you how to drape a melty Tootsie Roll, ends tapered just so, over the side of a plastic pan for free.

One of the loveliest compliments of my life was from my youngest stepson, who was about ten at the time. At a restaurant one evening, he turned to me and said, "Rachel, I love that you always treat people nice, and don't ever complain about everything and send stuff back to get a free dinner---Mom does that all the time, and it embarrasses me." Most everything has been fine anyway, but in any situation, I've been trying hard to live up to that sweet child's confidence ever since.

Haven't caught up on the thread---just saw your windows above the tree. Since you spoke of a squatters' nest type building---how do you handle your electricity and water, etc.?

Sherry, I'm so glad you're here!!! And I love that your first post was about BOOKS!!! (My own, thousands ago, was about Chick-fil-A---loses a bit in the comparison, but it was where I started, and I had something to say at the time). I have several of those you mentioned, including quite a few from the 1800's--perhaps we have some similars or sames. My very favorite was Mrs. Beeton's Cookery Book, which I gave away in a great flurry of mixed generosity and idiocy, to my Sister's first MIL, who was a Home Ec teacher. It just seemed appropriate at the time, and I've regretted it ever after. I've just begun to discover Laurie Colwin, after a suggestion from our Maggie. I'd mentioned loving the work of Gladys Taber, an old-fashioned, simple homekeeping girl like myself, and Laurie is just wonderful. Gone much too soon, taking an unestimable storehouse of wonderful stories before they could find the page. Welcome, Sherry!!

We had it that way at some Italian restaurant or other, and Chris likes it. We've tried it with Ligurian (because I'm infatuated with Nigella's slow, chocolaty purr of "Lee-gour-ian"), but that one, though expensive, had a little bit of bitter aftertaste. Better for Caprese with a splash of Balsamic. Umbrian is the one he likes best, and just tonight, I cleaver-whacked and peeled a nice fat shiny clove of garlic, gave it a sprinkly pinch of glisteny seasalt, smeared it to a nice chunky pulp, added it to a little dish of the Umbrian. A couple of hefty hunks ripped from a baguette so as to create those lovely stalactites of crumb, the feathery tips dipped into the oil---lovely to contemplate, lovely to eat. We don't pay much attention to fashion---wardrobe or culinary---and occasionally we hit on something that we really like. Do people REALLY taste something, like it, and yet eschew it because it's incorrect or not traditional, or just "not done?" I can't get my mind around that.

This whole thread is eye-opening---BitterWaitress without the venom. And Ben the B: You got CLUTCHED by a customer and you lead off with THIS?: Looks as if you've had quite enough entertainment for one career.

Now, see---I would have ordinarily just read this for the content, salivated on cue, and gone on to the next post. But I've been buried in the throes of translating some Old English for a few days, and I didn't bat an eye, just accepted that as Chicken Chow Mein. Translated perfectly in the phonetic. Envies on your hop-to-a-shop ability for what takes your fancy. We're lucky in having a Chinese restaurant right out the back gate, so I can't complain. And don't try to excuse the laundry and fridges. The toiletries bag from our trip last weekend is still on the dining room table. We need it, we just go get it. PS Is that your ironing in the freezer?

I'm SO glad it's YOU!!! Another voice in the Dutchfood arena, of all the new flavors and spices and sauces that have become a part of the dining landscape. The clafouti made me want to go pit all those big old maroon beauties in the bag in the fridge, to make one for dinner. And Chris would be right with you on the sausage/maple syrup thing, though ours is a lot more plebeian, downright redneck (of which we're very proud): Conecuh sausage from a locally-famous shop down near his birthplace in Alabama---not-too-juicy long fingerlinks of pepper-specked sausage, with a little dipping bowl of sorghum, just like the kind he used to help his Grandpa cook off way back when. MMM---good food to look forward to, and a lively escort, as well as a bit of nostalgia kindled by a place we've never been---how GOOD is that!!??

It's been a long time since my last stroll in the Grove---between classes or just on shady afternoons, I and Miss Jane Austen spent quite a few hours cross-legged in the grass, soaking in the sunbeams and wandering the moors. I know a mimosa and a John Collins, but despite all my years as a G.R.I.T.S. girl, never have I heard of a Magnolia. It conjures vanilla and perhaps a whisper of pernod. Wildest hopes pinned on a shot of 'Shine. Recipe?

What a bright green start to a sunny Monday!!! I'm looking forward to seeing all you've planned and what your fair city has to boast of. (The South-Girl part of me says BARBECUE!!!) What a treat.