Lady T

Way to go, chefg!

The apple pancake is dead simple. Make two or more if there are eGulletarians at the table. 1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Mix granulated sugar and ground cinnamon in proportion to taste, approximately 1/4 cup per pancake. 2. Peel, core, and thinly slice apples -- 1 medium or 2 small, medium crisp per pancake (I used Empires from the Grand Rapids Farmers' Market: wonderful!) -- and hold in acidulated water until needed. 3. Mix in bowl with fork: 2 large eggs, 1/2 cup milk, 1/2 cup all-purpose flour, and 1/8 teaspoon salt. Batter should be smooth. 4. Put 3 tablespoons sweet butter in 10" pie pan. Put pie pan in oven to melt butter. 5. Once butter is melted and bubbling (but not coloring yet), remove pan from oven; pour batter all at once into pan on top of butter. Working fast, remove apple slices from bowl of water with slotted spoon and scatter on top of batter, leaving about 1" clear at rim. Sprinkle thickly with cinnamon-sugar mixture and return to oven for 20 minutes. Remove from oven and serve.

If it's the wine I'm thinking of, it's drinkable now but would benefit from a year or two in the cellar. Get another opinion, though...I don't do the grands crus on a regular enough basis to be certain. Craig?

Abject apologies for using a full Maker's Mark bottle as a weapon...but I was NOT letting Matthew III magnetize my good cognac. Had to grab the nearest weapon that would do the job!

I'm going to do some seriously brandied mincemeat for holiday pies.

Welcome home to the Heartland, lady. Women with guts and brains and sassy mouths do mighty well here. *major grin* They get alllllll the meat they want.

Come on over for New Year's at G-man's. I'll be setting up a batch of seriously brandied mincemeat later this month (note to vegetarians: there will be meat in it) to use in pies for the holiday season. I love making pie for this outfit.

As pictures are posted, this will become clear. After a short series of "does the wine clip work?" informal taste tests (not to any known scientific standard), we decided to find and/or invent "Ninety-Nine Uses for the Wine Clip." One of these uses was to (perhaps) enhance the efficacy of the Hello Kitty vibrator. No results available as yet. There were others, God of Wisdom help us. More later.

The apple pancakes are easy, and I will post that recipe tomorrow when I get to the office, after I clear the pile of (insert obscenities of choice) off my desk. The longest prep to it has to do with peeling, coring, and slicing a couple of apples. The batter mixes up with a fork in five minutes or less. No-tech and low-time. They do taste okay, if I say so myself, and even better with the maple syrup Alex thoughtfully heated up. Niiiiiiice touch, sir. This was one fine party. Never mind that it's stretched more or less over three days...it was all just one really fine party. Off we go, with a band playing. In our minds, anyhow.

8:30 a.m.: All right then...who marched that Marine battalion through my mouth overnight while I was asleep? Lord. Give me a few minutes and a cup of coffee and I'll stop being an invertebrate. I promise. 9:45 a.m.: Hokay. Walking upright on two feet and speaking in complete relevant sentences. Packed. Recipe for raised apple pancakes in mind. Bring on that brunch.

I don't think anybody can say we eat fast, Suzanne...we've been schmoozing and snacking and drinking more or less nonstop since we woke up this morning. By that standard, we surpass even Trio! Also, as NeroW said, we don't waste time when it comes to dessert. The list of wines for the evening was scandalously short on the white side; not enough bottles survived for me even to catch a label. There was one well-received bottle of Chard, and one Sauvignon Blanc which mostly ended up in one of the vegetable dishes. Reds, however...check this list out: 2000 Toro "G", Spain 2000 Malbec, Altos Las Hormigas, Argentina 1999 Zinfandel, Old Vine/Dry Creek Valley, Sonoma, CA 2001 Chateau La Roque/Pic Saint Loup, Languedoc 2000 Cabernet, Antiguas Reservas, Cousino-Macul, Chile === ...and, for completeness' sake alone: 2002 Cabernet Shiraz (in can: 250 mL), the "tastes like ass" entry. And: more Maker's Mark whiskey than I've ever seen on one table in my life. Red, green, and white wax, for those who track those sorts of things. More (and more) tomorrow. G'night.

One bunch of us is doing dishes (imagine a line of umpteen red-wine glasses lined up the length of the kitchen counter). More of us are out on the deck in the dark, shooting the breeze and drinking some more red wine. Others are doing the clean-up-the-kids-for-bed brigade. Still more of us are still down in the basement, still talking. More details tomorrow (from me, anyhow; other folks need to sort out the many pictures they've taken and get 'em posted). Major pressure is being applied to ensure that several of tonight's recipes will in fact be entered to eGullet for posterity. We will get to dessert and coffee in a bit...but cleanup and a deep breath come first.

We'll advise Tommy as data become available about The Wine Clip's possible uses as -- umm -- clamps for use in other anatomical locations.

6:10 p.m.: Thousand pardons, Dave. My bad. That last gorgeous piece of meat outside is a leg of lamb, not pork at all. It just came in on a platter (should've been accompanied by a brass band), and Klink is setting it up to rest before carving. Aurora's just finished another thing of beauty: the made-from-scratch carrot cake is now iced and standing in splendor on Michelle's best cake pedestal. Not that we're actually going to wait any sort of decent interval before snitching samples...but the prime rib is the star of the show, after all. Right? And while everybody's ogling the prime rib and the lamb, I'm gonna be making serious inroads on the scalloped potatoes, and the pepper saute, and the spinach salad with the hot bacon dressing, and the roasted cauliflower, and... Heh heh heh. Dinner time. Officially. Edited to add: Maggie just poured me a glass of 1999 Petit Mouton de Mouton Rothschild. Going to drink Petit Mouton with la superbe mouton out in the kitchen...too perfect.

5:42 p.m.: The duck whose demise Klink and G-man witnessed early yesterday went to the smoker in a thoroughly spatchcocked state. Lean little guy; doesn't have the usual two cups of duck fat around his anatomy. Came off the fire looking magnificently bronzed. The magnificent 17 pounds of prime beef came off the fire a bit ago; I think there's a sweet bit of pork finishing up now. Maggie's roasted cauliflower and escalloped potatoes are cooking now; the rest of G-man's kin have arrived; the party is in full howl now, and Dave, you would weep with joy to see the choreography going on -- "Hot behind you, Maggie! Don't move!" -- as all these people converge in Matt's kitchen to finish the cooking and get the eating going full tilt. I'd better get out there, or I won't get any of NeroW's ham-and-cheese-pillow pastries. Can't have that.

Klink: "But...but...I've never spatchcocked before!" Guess you never forget your first time...

2:55 p.m.: Mussels steaming for mussel/potato salad; beets boiled and jacketed and being set up by G-man for further use; G-man's lamb salami has joined the heavy cutting board action; Klinkster attending both smokers simultaneously; Matthew buzzing around seeing that beverages are properly distributed to all. "Well, I got some flour and some sugar here, an' I got some sifting action goin' on..." -- Aurora, doing Rachael Ray imitation. "You know what gets the red out..." -- Aurora, speculating on the effect or red wine on white rug. "Eyedrops." -- Lady T. "Matthew." -- Michelle, smiling radiantly.

Klink just started slicing a cold smoked brisket he brought along just for snacking. Major religious experience in progress.

Aurora's mixing cake batter. Prep slaves Klinkster and I (he's way faster) just finished cutting peppers and onions into strips for G-man's sauteeing pleasure in a bit. I'll be setting piecrust up to chill shortly; won't mix custard until the cake's baking -- better that way; I don't like to make it wait in the fridge. Michelle's cleaning up valiantly after us. Too busy for pictures right now, Varmint. Hang tight for a bit... You don't wanna know, Dave. Fresco: "Is 'shitload' a defined quantity?" G-man: "That's a Midwestern term..." Game, Seth? What game?

It's 12:10 p.m. at MatthewB's. The smokers are set up and Matthew's firing the first one up as we speak (I can see him out the window as I type). The booze lineup has begun on the counter. We have Pierre Ferrand "Cigare" cognac, a VSOP Coquerel Calvados, and for later desserting, a unique raspberry wine from Lynfred Winery back home. I have your Sancerre here too, Tammylc, ready for pickup or for drinking here -- just as you choose. G-man's headed for the supermarket to get the last details: blue cheese, Chevre, milk, bread, balloons (for a sign to help direct the incoming kinfolks), oranges, food coloring, an 8 oz. can of crushed pineapple (with syrup; needed for Aurora's cake), two 6-oz. packages of cream cheese, and confectioners' sugar. ( Taken from the actual list; I'll check when Dean arrives with the bags, to see if that's all that actually comes in.) Greenmarketing was a hoot. The people-watching was easily as good as the produce, and the produce was gooooood. Berries and the more fragile leafies are of course done and gone, but I snagged a nice bag of Empire apples (for raised apple pancakes tomorrow morning, and munching in the meantime) and a fine fat bunch of Italian parsley. (I don't know who it'll be yet, but somebody's gonna need it.) I didn't see what was in everybody else's bags, beyond the leeks and potatoes Maggie will be using with some of Dean's veal stock for soup. I believe Alex managed the rest of the herbs, and and and... Aurora's setting up for cake baking, and since Maggie's doing a big batch of scalloped potatoes, I had better get out there and start peeling. (I am NOT missing out on potato peeling this week!) My custard pie won't go in until Aurora's cake is out (I'll be mixing while she bakes), and Maggie's taters go in after my pie comes out. Got that? Good. It's only going to get more complicated. More later.

The pictures are coming, Dave, don't worry. You wouldn't believe how fetching G-man (and the klinkster, and Alex) can look in Maggie's tiara. Transport was relatively simple (but of course, with Maggie and Aurora watching the exits and the map -- we only digressed once, and hey, who's to say the prettiest route to Grand Rapids isn't through Chesterton, Indiana? Hmm? Dinner was at Rafaella's this evening (about which more at length later; I kept notes), and now we're at MatthewB's spacious, elegant house drinking, and talking, and setting up the work (work, my foot -- this is fun!) rosters for tomorrow's feasting. I'll have notes at some point tomorrow about the farmer's market where the greengoods are to be bought, and we'll see the Saturday arrivals...well, as they arrive. All is well. Wish y'all were here, Dave. I'm going now to make sure you get a toast as promised, Malawry!

Do I be translating that correctly from the original Jive as: "because I can afford it and I want to rub your nose in the fact that you can't or won't"? And Jason: I agree. Loudly.

The late Steve Goodman got it right, at least for today, Dave: Do they still sing the blues in Chicago When baseball season rolls around? At the op'ning of May Do the Cubbies still play In their ivy-covered burial ground? ...(several intervening verses and choruses)... The home of the brave... The land of the free... And the doormat of the National League! Sometime this weekend, I'll teach you all the whole thing. Seems appropriate somehow.

There'll be many, many pictures. (Personally, I want one of Dean in the tiara.) Not to mention: I'm gonna have my note pad at the ready. I'll make sure we toast you, Malawry -- every night!

Good stuff coming this weekend, then, G-man! I've got an upscale bottle of the cognac I brought for July 4 -- Sam's was running a sale -- and it's already packed.