Lady T

Just keep the kittens -- and their whiskers -- out of the food.

And refuses to develop mold.

Olive oil, white wine, garlic.

My mom, God be good to her, simply didn't have it -- whatever constitutes "it" -- when it came to pasta. She never grasped the necessity of a good big volume of boiling water, never salted what boiling water there was, and never could get the timing (only until it's done, Mama!) quite right. "Dead in the water" never had a more apt usage. It never really mattered what kind of sauce or other ingredients graced the poor, sad, sodden, stuck-together mess of starch after that; I do remember, though, that Dad poured the Chianti with an unusually heavy hand when we got what he jokingly called the "Red Menace" sauce -- jarred, thick, red, and vaguely tomato-related. I never make ragu bolognese at home anymore -- the resonance is just too awful.

Many, many happy returns, rebbe.

I'll also be at guajolote's and flaca's home, adding to the pie content, and the cognac content, and the comedy content, and perhaps the contentment content too...

I can think of brut champagnes that will work with those flavors, just for one possibility. (...if that question was anything but rhetorical, that is)

Weirdo! And you expected...? No quiche. Burgers. I eat quiche. I eat burgers. I enjoy. Edited to add a suggestion for upthread party who wants to incorporate French toast: Roll out some brioche dough instead of making piecrust. You lose the pretty crisp texture -- but you get the egg-soaked bready goodness.

Whatever he had...may I have something else, please?

Possibly my fave experience in this category occurred when, sitting in a local greasy spoon, I heard a radio (tuned to a station clearly chosen for its taste in inoffensive medleys from musicals) playing "A Little Priest" from Sweeney Todd. Thank God all I was having was eggs and toast.

In a word: yes.

...and avoids your plate.

What a hoot! Somebody turn this mensch loose on challah! Welcome, rabbenu! Or is it maybe 'rib-eye-nu'? (Ouch.)

Nope. They won't be back. After they leave, however, they'll also post the whole tawdry tale on an international gourmet website and make sure nobody, anywhere, who honors decent cooking and honest thoughtful service ever sets foot in the joint. Some kinds of revenge are sweet after all.

Oil dough, butter dough -- Roll out neatly/pat in place; Everyone loves Pie. Mince, pumpkin, custard? Fruit, eggs, spices rock my world -- Warm, serene kitchen! Nine-inch moons, lined up In butler's pantry: Pray that Kids don't see 'em first! Little girl grabs knife: Won't let Mama kibitz -- NO! Cuts her own piece. See? Guests coo/hostess purrs. No adults here, just children Of varying size. *** Mince pie with pour cream and hot coffee, just perfect Breakfast on Friday.

Two pumpkin pies in the oven now, due out 3 p.m. Maine time; butter crust for mince-plus-auxiliary-fruit (and maybe more booze) up next. Gonna be fun tomorrow...happy bird day to all, if I don't make it back to the keyboard today or tomorrow!

I just had the most urgent pre-rehearsal craving for sour-cream-and-onion potato chips. Gah. Better go check the calendar.

I won't need a camera to remember all the good stuff, G-man. It was great to see you there, too. Regards to la flaca, and Iwis and Wobert! JimInLoganSquare: A pleasure to meet you -- I hope to see you and your gracious spouse at many more eGullet get-togethers. Maggie: Thank you and bless you for the apron. A lace-trimmed 'Hello Kitty' apron, no less. I am overwhelmed. Loved the card too -- and yes, Rossini did in fact marry at least one soprano. I'd have to check as to whether there were more than one (legally married, that is; there also were paramours), but yes. He knew from singers, did Maestro Rossini. Alex: We've got to get you to a CSO Chorus concert sometime when you're in town. You'd have a blast. Nero: Loved the card and note. Thank you muchly! Lou: Many happy returns. Again. Some more. Still. All the time. Nightscotsman: Damn but you're an artist and a gentleman, sir. Those may have been the most upscale Rice Crispie treats I ever have tasted in my life (), and the chocolates were beyond amazing. Sarah: I know you're out there lurking, woman. Sign on and start posting, already -- you've got friends here now, and the party's in progress all the time! Tenor15: Bless you, gentle man: I would never have remembered to avoid the parade-plus-tree-lighting-plus-shopping-orgy downtown. I'd have blundered straight down the Outer Drive and we might still be hacking our way west now on 18th Street. Champagne never got a smoother ride than those four bottles of Veuve got in your back seat! *** After dropping Sarah off at her place, NSM and tenor15 and I went to a Baker's Square out at Western and Touhy (my suggestion, sort of: we set out after I mentioned pie and NSM instantly got a wistful look on his face and repeated, "Pie?...Pie...?" ). Cool. Most days I can take a hint, and tenor15 sees clues like that coming a week before they happen. We got seated, and after a close critique of the menu (NSM's comment was precisely on the money: only chain places that cater to the gloriously stoned at 3 a.m. -- which it wasn't and we weren't, I hasten to add -- have menus with that many pictures, so that the chemically challenged can simply grunt and point to what they want), we ordered six small slices of pie, two each: triple berry, pumpkin, plain custard, cherry, lemon meringue, and one other which I have utterly blocked from my mind for some reason. We concluded what one might expect (at least what one might expect with a Pastry Master of the Universe among the company): that the fillings were, one and all, out of a can, and that the crusts were likewise from a mix-plus-water concoction that had never been within shouting distance of a pat of honest butter. Especially notable was that lemon meringue slice, which totally fascinated NSM -- he kept poking with his fork at the filling (which tasted okay but resisted unbecomingly), and speculating about exactly what was keeping the meringue so extremely and persistently upright (he guesses agar-agar, and I defer to that judgement). Ah well. At least we didn't spend much in the way of money. Exit the company, laughing. Thanks and praise and blessings to you all. You gave my 51st year a mighty happy start -- before I even finished the 50th!

I go with the 'bake before freezing' trend -- if I have to freeze at all. I want the yeast dead on my terms -- not Frigidaire's, on the morning of The Day, when I have a pile of other stuff to handle.

Depending on the relative size of my next income tax refund, I'm looking to come to NYC again in May 2004, this time for a full week if I can. The list this time begins with: Le Bernardin Aquavit Veritas (my experience there last year was so wonderful, I want a rematch!) Suvir's new place (I blush: I forgot the name) ...and I'm thinking about some others.

Saturday nights being what they are at the trendoholic places...yes, quite possibly. This has never noticeably stopped our crowd, however, and the other thing to remember is that the real mayhem only gets started at Sugar around ten-thirty to eleven. We might very well slip in, nosh, drink, ogle various Skinny People In Black, laugh hysterically at the overwrought menu, and still be out before that time.

Ahh. I see I've been paged. I'll join you and HH there about six on Saturday, then, Mags. You'll recognize me easily: I'll be the one carrying the champagne bottles. Might make the vigil a bit happier while we wait for the riot to arrive, yes?

Wow. That's going to be a dogfight -- or perhaps "food fight" would be the better term.

That would depend on what shape we're in, what we're willing to spend, and/or what structures need demolition in the immediate 'hood. May I suggest drinks at 5 or 5:30 somewhere downtown, followed by a dinner reservation at 7 or 8? That'll allow us to gather and/or carpool down to Pilsen in good order. That way, folks who tire easily (or have to sing coherently at church in the AM on Sunday, or need to get back home and liberate the babysitter, or are short of the [$] needful) can do drinks only, or drinks and dinner, while those of us who want to "indulge in the night" -- oh, I like that phrase, Willie! -- are free to hit Sugar for dessert, or see the late show spontaneously at Second City, or frighten the drunken tourists on Rush Street, or catch a midnight show of Matrix, or or or..

Huh? What? Why? Surely she's coming with El Oso, is she not?!