A happy foodie weekend—and a cuckoo clock
My new birdsong cuckoo clock
I have a new cuckoo clock!Forestalling any comments on the appropriateness of such a clock in my cottage,I hasten to tell you this one is different. It could say “Cuckoo!” but insteadChristian set it to a bird song. On the hour, a little blue bird emerges andtrills it song—I am not knowledgeable enough about birds to tell you what birdit is, but it is cheerful and, to my delight, not too loud (it doesn’t wake meat night). It has a repertoire of twelve birds’ songs, but the instructions arein German, so we may not change it often. Thanks to son Jamie for this cheerfuladdition to the cottage. I’m really enjoying it.
As my weekends often are, thisone was devoted to food—but rather to writing about it almost more thanpreparing it. I keep finding recipes that fit into my cookbook featuring mymom’s cooking or my updates on it. I have now, I think, gone through most ofthe old files I have, but I also keep remembering things she fixed. Like salmoncroquettes—I had written that she rarely cooked fish, claimed she didn’t knowhow. And then I remembered the croquettes, only because Jordan and I had myversion (salmon patties) for supper Friday night. And today I remembered buthaven’t written up that in that era ofjellied foods, Mom had a fish-shaped mold and made a jellied salmon appetizer. Not sure I have—orwant—the recipe, but it deserves a mention.
Jordan and I have seen a lotof each other this weekend and enjoyed it, at least I did. Friday nightsChristan often has a late happy hour with a good friend, so it was just the twoof us. I made extra patties in case he showed up hungry, but I’m not sure hewould have eaten the salmon at all. He once told me his mom made them anddescribed them as like hockey pucks (she liked all meats very well done). I doremember once he said he’d try mine, and he liked them, but he hasn’t seemedanxious to try again.
Fresh salmon was on sale atCentral Market, so I ordered—what turned out to be a huge piece for Saturdaysupper for the three of us (Jacob never has weekend meals at home—ah, to beseventeen again!). At the last minute, Christan was invited to the rodeo.Saturday morning he was most apologetic about the last-minute change and thenbegan to tell me how it was really good for his business, etc. I told him hedidn’t have to rationalize, and he laughed. Jordan still wanted salmon but we discoveredthe pound and a half was big enough we could cut off portions for ourselves andstill freeze the rest for a meal another time. Christian has promised to grillit. Last night I roasted it with a garlic/anchovy/butter sauce. Good, but oneof those recipes I can’t follow exactly because it calls for starting the dishin a skillet and finishing it by putting the skillet in the oven. When you onlyhave a toaster oven, that’s not possible. Still, it was good, and I enjoyed thetiny bit I saved for lunch today.
Tonight though was the bigdeal. Christan a couple of weeks ago requested carnitas, one of his favoritemeals. I can’t tell you where I got the recipe, although some years ago I hadan editor who taught me to cube a pork butt and cook it in simmering wateruntil the water is all evaporated and the cubed meat crisps and browns in thefat. Then I found a recipe which adds spice to the water—orange peel, choppedonion and garlic, salt, bay leaves, oregano, cloves, and a cinnamon stick. Thetrouble is the water rarely evaporates in the time the recipe suggests, and Ialways worry that we’ll be sitting around until ten waiting for dinner. My preptime was lengthened because the boneless, cubed meat I ordered—wasn’t. I’d sayat least ten percent was on the bone and hard to deal with, and instead of theone-inch cubes I requested, I got three- and four-inch pieces. I am honestlynot a complainer, but I feel a call to Central Market coming on tomorrow.
Tonight I calculated two hoursfor it to cook—forty-five minutes longer than the recipe said. We ate at 7:30which was only half an hour past my target time. We serve the meat withguacamole, sour cream, shredded Monterrey Jack, chopped cilantro, diced redonion and, of course, tortillas. For all my worry, it was really goodtonight—full of flavor and very tender. It’s a lot of work and worry but worthit. I promised to do it again in six months.
So here we go into anotherweek. Zenaida, who cleans the cottage, hasn’t been here since before Christmas,her schedule upset by holidays and weather, so Sophie and I are grateful shewill be here in the morning, even though she’s coming at the awful hour ofseven-thirty. And I have company coming for supper—I’ll need my nap.
May each of you have a blessedweek. In Fort Worth, it will be sunny and in the sixties. We will be lulledinto thinking winter is gone, but I am sure it is not. At least we can enjoythe good weather.
