With the wet, semi-cold weather comes the familiar scratchy-throated, fatigued feeling of impending sickness. We all have our various folk remedies. Mine centers around immediate and prolonged sleep, and has been known to include (in extreme cases) swabbing the throat with cut garlic cloves and cotton swabs dipped in tabasco sauce. Recently, though, when a couple of fingers of good whiskey neat don’t seem quite enough, I’ve been playing around with the storied combination of booze, honey, citrus, and hot water.
cookblog Posts
Honestly, what is it with you? I post a picture of seasonally-appropriate pumpkin pie, positively groaning under the heavenly decadence of a cumulus cloud of whipped cream, anointed with a lascivious dribble of maple syrup, and even go so far as to post said picture along with an ACTUAL RECIPE for the best crust in the world. And submit the picture to the most shamelessly dessert-whoring websites in tubedom. And what do I get?
Here’s that pork chop–the one that so generously provided the bone with which I made the stock that embellished the chicken roulade kabobs so handsomely. I had a busy weekend (ceramics sale and then return to Rhode Island to collect all the work from the gallery) so this will have to do until I empty the camera of pictures from intervening meals. Having said that, though, it was a good one.
Because the Internet does not have enough pictures of dessert, I hereby offer a solution. I’m all about solving problems. It’s just what I do.
Usually when I see the end product in my mind before I begin to cook it turns out pretty well. I don’t know why this is, but I’ve learned to trust it; when I want to make a particular thing–even if I’ve never made it before–I do my best to make it. It almost always works.
The studio is having its annual holiday ceramics sale this weekend, so I have been busy making, glazing, and firing a bunch of new pieces for that as well as filling several orders that have come in since the last plate-related post. (Thanks, Zoomie). Here’s a rundown of the most recent batch, beginning with these oval dinner plates for friends in Boston.
It warmed up a bit, and that made for a November Sunday perfectly suited to getting some chores done. I spent a couple of hours out in the garden dismantling tomato trellises and then cleaning out all of the tender beds; the blasted remnants of cucurbits and nightshades all got raked into the compost along with lawn trimmings, the kitchen pile, ashes from the grill, and some leaves.
I had such fine ideas for dinner, really. But as those of us in the reality-based community know, wishing does not make things so. Dinner ended up different than intended, but in a good way.
I forgot to post this back when it came out on Monday. For this month’s Chronogram article, I explored how graduates of the Culinary Institute are building an identity for the region by opening their own restaurants in the Hudson Valley.
We’re lucky enough to have a good venison farm in the area, so those of us who do not hunt have a source for deer meat. Next year may be the one in which I begin hunting, but for now I have to say I’m OK with the steps I’ve taken so far to curate my food sources. Venison is super-lean, flavorful, and, when cooked properly, offers an elegant alternative to beef.