We try to have holiday dinners at our house. And reassure her that, “no, you don’t need to bring anything. Just yourself. No, really.”
She’s ninety years old, lives in her own house, alone, has a little business on the side, is quite active in her church, drives, and runs off to the casinos to throw away her Social Security check on the nickel slot machines. And whenever we go to visit, she is up and dressed, the house is clean, and she chats away quite pleasantly about practically everything. A lot to admire about the old bat.
But not her cooking. Some day I will tell you about the ham she marinated for twenty-four hours in wine and spices, and then baked. The plastic coating she forgot to remove had a delicate flavor of cloves. This was about twenty years ago, so I don’t think it is her age.
And, amazingly enough, there are several companies that vie with one another, ceaselessly, for the privilege of selling to Airman and the other eleven!
So, we’re not the only ones who made chocolate fondue for V-day! Our recipe involved milk chocolate and cream, a few marshmallows melted in to make the mixture thicker and clingier, with a heavy dose of almond extract. MMM. We dipped marshmallows, strawberries, bananas, Nilla wafers, and angel food cake. The cake was, and has always been, my favorite. Double MMM.
Oh, and while I don’t find circus peanuts repellant or offensive, I won’t bother to buy them, either. They’re nowhere near the top of my candy buying list.
I just used milk chocolate chips and cream. We dipped strawberries (which Aaron ate most of, both dipped and plain), angel food cake, and brownies. I also broke out a banana for Aaron because he developed an unhealthy obsession with the brownies.
I noticed a bag of CP in the store the other day, and passed it up. Damn!
Back in Vancouver I never saw the peanuts, but found a couple of places that carry bright yellow banana-shaped items of the same size and texture. (The flavour, as with CP, is pretty much indeterminate.) Every month or two I’d get a little bag, just a dozen or so, and spend all day at work nibbling away and savouring every bit of the sweet tender goodness. Somehow I didn’t lose too many to the passers-by. I don’t understand it, but there you are.
Ya know, Dung Beetle, I’m happily married and want to stay that way. That is a recipe that will never grace the table at Chez Doors nor any table at which I am an occupant.
Yes I know there are those who actually like their peeps and peanuts fresh…
I can’t stand them that way… but properly aged, yep I can end up getting a taste for one or two… basically a 99 cent bag could last me a decade.
Cadbery Cream Eggs though… these must be fresh, and they must be at just the right temperature so that the chocolate shell is still solid yet the inside is liquid enough to be scooped out with your tongue. (A pox on those impersonator eggs that actually included a little plastic spoon)
If you just nibble off the top of the narrow end you can end up attracting some attention as you lick all the cream from the very bottom of the egg.
I’m not quite sure what horrifies me more. The fact that you ate something that was on the floor of your car for a couple months or so or the fact that a fairly large orange peanut shaped object lay on your car floor for a couple months or so and you didn’t notice it.
How were the french fries you found under the car seat?
