So remember last week when I mentioned that "the weather has certainly been warm lately?" And posted a salad that said I was 90% sure summer was here?
Well.
That was a bad idea.
That was a bad idea.
Apparently, that insignificant comment was enough not just to anger the gods of New England weather, it was enough to infuriate them to the point that they sent HAIL. HAIL, YOU GUYS. Approximately four hours after I hit "Publish" the temperature dropped, and the rain started. The rain started on Tuesday night. Do you want to know, dear reader, when the rain stopped? It stopped on SATURDAY. IT RAINED WITHOUT CEASING FROM TUESDAY TO SATURDAY. AND IT WAS COLD. AND THERE WAS HAIL.
I mean.
I'm sorry.
We were driving back from Northampton on Wednesday night when the hail started. Because that's exactly where you want to be when a biblical hail storm begins. On 91 North. In a Honda Civic with 20,000 miles on it and bobo windshield wipers. We sheltered, Noah's Ark-like, under an overpass for a bit with the rest of a sad, bewildered, frightened humanity: a retired couple with an excitable bichon; a posse of very unhappy looking Hell's Angels;
Now allow me to explain that I actually really like rain. I'm one of those people. I love the sound of it tap tapping on windowsills, I love the smell of it, I love how everything becomes an extra intense green all of a sudden, and I absolutely LOVE the sky when the clouds are low and ponderous and slate gray. But rain from Tuesday to Saturday? And the fact that I had to pull out my crazy warm fleece blanket again (I so thought I had seen the last of it for a while)? And the fact that instead of afternoons on the porch, I was once again in double sweatpants fighting the cat for the space heater? And that fact that I wore MITTENS TO THE GROCERY STORE YESTERDAY? Yeah, not so fun. Add to that that both Mum and I have Reynauds (the non-fatal-lose-your-fingers-and-die kind ps it's hereditary so THANKS FOR THAT LOVE YOU TOO) and you are left with both of us looking increasingly like the witches from Macbeth, hunched over sinks of hot water desperately trying to rub blood back into our gnarled, eye-of-newt-looking hands.
So what I had initially planned (oh so naively, my years in Manhattan have clearly made me soft) as a weekend of light, sunny suppers and baking turned into a weekend of "HOLY CRAP MAKE ME SOMETHING WARM I AM SO COLD I WILL NEVER NOT BE COLD AGAIN AND BY THE WAY WILL IT EVER STOP RAINING."
MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND KICKOFF COMFORT SUPPER THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE GREEN AND LIGHT
ORECCHIETTE WITH SAUTEED TOMATOES, OLIVES, AND SAUSAGE
Keep an eye on the water as this is going on, by this time it should be at the boil, so dump in the pasta when it's ready.
So yesterday was not as rainy but still insanely cold. The fun part was that it was BEST FRIEND FOREVER DAY and I love BEST FRIEND FOREVER DAY because, as you may have guessed, my bestest bud in the universe comes over and we engage in a ridiculously intense gossip session, make something yummy in the kitchen, and watch stupid and morally questionable television. Yes, dear reader, both of us will be 30 soon. Does this time management method seem appropriate? Why yes it does.
This Best Friend Day in question was a special one because I had promised her cookies as a "you graduated from Library School and are therefore quite smart" present. She chose Pumpkin Seed Cookies (she's a smartie, I told you) so we made those and then curled up to watch "I Found the Gown" which, if you've ever watched "Say Yes to the Dress" (of course you have), basically take that show and lower the tone about 50%. You're almost there.
It was, needless to say, an absolutely perfect BFFD.
BEST FRIEND FOREVER DAY BROWN BUTTER PUMPKIN SEED COOKIES
I made these a few weeks ago and so won't bore you with the recipe again. Suffice it to say that burnt butter still smells amazing, these cookies are still epic. And, yes, Mum STILL LOVES PUMPKIN SEEDS. I will never not be tired of reminding her of that.
BEETLE NOTES
There were a few differences this time. I used dark brown sugar because that's what we had and because of that they are, duh, much darker. They are also much flatter. I used the exact same amount of flour, but perhaps the dark brown reacted differently than light brown would? Or maybe the butter went into the rest of the batter much warmer than it did last time? Anyway, they are almost lace-like at the top. And very very dark and lovely.
They were still amazing. Many happy food noises were made over the course of the day. I gave some to Ralph our handyman/household guardian this morning. Hopefully he will like them. I gave him some blue cheese cornmeal biscuits last week, only to learn two days later that Ralph doesn't like blue cheese. I was gutted and humiliated and am now throwing baked goods at him in a completely craven and undignified manner.
Today, dear reader, at least the sun came out. IT'S A START YOU GUYS. However I am still wearing a boiled wool jacket over a hoodie sweatshirt. I'm inside the house. I hope that maybe by July 4th I will be able to wear only one layer. I CAN HOPE YOU GUYS. I CAN HOPE.
Tonight is Memorial Day Supper. Another warming comfort dinner to be eaten wearing double sweatpants next to the space heater. Awesome and delicious? Yes. Seasonally appropriate?
That's a complicated question.
If you need me before tomorrow, I will be sacrificing a baked bean and an ear of corn to the weather gods of New England and begging their forgiveness. And also putting on another pair of socks.
I mean.
I'm sorry.
We were driving back from Northampton on Wednesday night when the hail started. Because that's exactly where you want to be when a biblical hail storm begins. On 91 North. In a Honda Civic with 20,000 miles on it and bobo windshield wipers. We sheltered, Noah's Ark-like, under an overpass for a bit with the rest of a sad, bewildered, frightened humanity: a retired couple with an excitable bichon; a posse of very unhappy looking Hell's Angels;
Now allow me to explain that I actually really like rain. I'm one of those people. I love the sound of it tap tapping on windowsills, I love the smell of it, I love how everything becomes an extra intense green all of a sudden, and I absolutely LOVE the sky when the clouds are low and ponderous and slate gray. But rain from Tuesday to Saturday? And the fact that I had to pull out my crazy warm fleece blanket again (I so thought I had seen the last of it for a while)? And the fact that instead of afternoons on the porch, I was once again in double sweatpants fighting the cat for the space heater? And that fact that I wore MITTENS TO THE GROCERY STORE YESTERDAY? Yeah, not so fun. Add to that that both Mum and I have Reynauds (the non-fatal-lose-your-fingers-and-die kind ps it's hereditary so THANKS FOR THAT LOVE YOU TOO) and you are left with both of us looking increasingly like the witches from Macbeth, hunched over sinks of hot water desperately trying to rub blood back into our gnarled, eye-of-newt-looking hands.
So what I had initially planned (oh so naively, my years in Manhattan have clearly made me soft) as a weekend of light, sunny suppers and baking turned into a weekend of "HOLY CRAP MAKE ME SOMETHING WARM I AM SO COLD I WILL NEVER NOT BE COLD AGAIN AND BY THE WAY WILL IT EVER STOP RAINING."
MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND KICKOFF COMFORT SUPPER THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE GREEN AND LIGHT
ORECCHIETTE WITH SAUTEED TOMATOES, OLIVES, AND SAUSAGE
This was Friday night. The weekend kickoff dinner. We'd just gotten back from Maine and were a.) exhausted b.) starving and c.) so so so so cold. (You think Massachusetts sounds cold? Try coastal Maine. Try coastal Maine in cropped lavender summer-weight trousers. My fault but still.) We'd been up since 4am, hadn't eaten since coffee at 6am, and were pretty much shells of our former selves.
Obviously we needed something crazy fast and crazy warming and filling. Mum disappeared into the shower and I pulled an Emergency Beetle and started to cook. I put an old episode of House Hunters International on TV and pulled out:
- 1 small onion, chopped
- 1/2 cup black olives
- 4 stem tomatoes, quartered
- rosemary
- package of (veggie) sausages
- 1/2 pound Orecchiette
- olive oil, salt and pepper
The pasta takes about 11 minutes, so start the water boiling and whilst that is happening chop the onion, sausages, and tomatoes.
As soon as the chopping is done, start the olive oil heating in the pan
and add the onions. Add the rosemary a few minutes later and keep stirring.
If you are using veggie sausages, they don't need to "cook" per se but you definitely want them nice and browned. So add those next with the olives.
Keep an eye on the water as this is going on, by this time it should be at the boil, so dump in the pasta when it's ready.
The tomatoes will go in last because they cook in no time flat, but you do want them to start to blister on the sides, and, crucially, you want them to release all the juices in the awesome way that they do.
After that it's just waiting for everything to finish cooking. Drain the pasta (you know how I feel about overcooking it so please don't do that) and mix it with a little olive oil. When the tomatoes have become all squishy and nice, you can turn that mixture out into a separate bowl.
Pretty much by the time Mum came downstairs it was done, this is that fast of a supper.
 |
| And nothing says "grab your legwarmers and the remote" like this does. |
 |
| There were definitely leftovers too. And the second night heated up is just as good as the first. In case you were wondering. |
This Best Friend Day in question was a special one because I had promised her cookies as a "you graduated from Library School and are therefore quite smart" present. She chose Pumpkin Seed Cookies (she's a smartie, I told you) so we made those and then curled up to watch "I Found the Gown" which, if you've ever watched "Say Yes to the Dress" (of course you have), basically take that show and lower the tone about 50%. You're almost there.
It was, needless to say, an absolutely perfect BFFD.
BEST FRIEND FOREVER DAY BROWN BUTTER PUMPKIN SEED COOKIES
I made these a few weeks ago and so won't bore you with the recipe again. Suffice it to say that burnt butter still smells amazing, these cookies are still epic. And, yes, Mum STILL LOVES PUMPKIN SEEDS. I will never not be tired of reminding her of that.
There were a few differences this time. I used dark brown sugar because that's what we had and because of that they are, duh, much darker. They are also much flatter. I used the exact same amount of flour, but perhaps the dark brown reacted differently than light brown would? Or maybe the butter went into the rest of the batter much warmer than it did last time? Anyway, they are almost lace-like at the top. And very very dark and lovely.
They were still amazing. Many happy food noises were made over the course of the day. I gave some to Ralph our handyman/household guardian this morning. Hopefully he will like them. I gave him some blue cheese cornmeal biscuits last week, only to learn two days later that Ralph doesn't like blue cheese. I was gutted and humiliated and am now throwing baked goods at him in a completely craven and undignified manner.
 |
| The photographic embodiment of "you have been my best friend since we bonded over Jane Austen and polka dot leggings in seventh grade and spent our orientation field trip noting how silly boys were and because of that we will be best friends until the end of time itself." |
Today, dear reader, at least the sun came out. IT'S A START YOU GUYS. However I am still wearing a boiled wool jacket over a hoodie sweatshirt. I'm inside the house. I hope that maybe by July 4th I will be able to wear only one layer. I CAN HOPE YOU GUYS. I CAN HOPE.
Tonight is Memorial Day Supper. Another warming comfort dinner to be eaten wearing double sweatpants next to the space heater. Awesome and delicious? Yes. Seasonally appropriate?
That's a complicated question.
If you need me before tomorrow, I will be sacrificing a baked bean and an ear of corn to the weather gods of New England and begging their forgiveness. And also putting on another pair of socks.
No comments:
Post a Comment