Happy anniversary

My niece and nephew celebrated their anniversary on May 31st. Their wedding was such a happy day. And they and their children add a lot to my life (while somehow simultaneously taking years off it sometimes).

I made a rhubarb custard tart thing. It was cute but it was a mess and it tasted ok but just ok. You win some, you don’t win others.

Things to do with zucchini

Aside from lie down on the table and sleep. So I had leftover burger substitute. Mushrooms, walnuts and black beans basically. I also had a ginormous zucchini that generally speaking anything that massive size would be very woody. I’m not sure what kind of zucchini I planted but this giant thing was really quite nice. Not woody at all. So I cut it up and hollowed it out (saved the tender inner meat for my worms). Zipped up the filling with tomato, basil, rosemary and more cheese. I neglected to add bread crumbs which doesn’t really change flavor but soaks up juice. Or as Gail would prefer me to say: the juices. Zucchini unloads a lot of water when it cooks.

I made a rough sauce with tomatoes, garlic and basil, nestled the stuffed pieces of zucchini into the pan, covered it with cheese and you got a lovely vegetarian dinner. It was a little runny, but it was delicious.

And I didn’t fall asleep eating it. Leftovers went to my niece and nephew. They did not complain.

The finished casserole

Lime chicken and pulihora

The Royal Indian Mounted Police may live on another continent but I am vigilant, constantly looking over my shoulder to see if I’m about to be swatted or reprimanded in some way for code violations. This was an exquisite Indianish dinner. Chicken thighs marinated in lime pickle (limes from my lime tree, pickle that I made myself) and pulihora, a rice dish made with chaunk, and some raita made with ho-made yogurt.

I think it was good. The table went silent when we started eating which is a good sign but I was nervous nonetheless. One never knows when the authorities will swoop in and kick up a ruckus.



When your sister hands you lemons

I chose to make a lemon cake to take to my nephew on Sunday because my sister gave me a bag of lemons. My own lemon tree is in blossom but it will be a while before the harvest.

This particular cake recipe uses lemon curd between the layers and so I had to make lemon curd. This was a new one on me. Zesting 6 lemons is not nearly as enjoyable as it sounds. And I need a new Microplane apparently. Also juicing them is no trip to the park either. What a mess. Lemon curd requires 6 egg yolks and the particular cake I was making required 5 whites so, you know, close enough. I don’t know what else one does with lemon curd, I mean, it’s not a USofA staple or anything, but it is super delicious. 

I hope my niece and nephew like it. It’s their 6th anniversary. I looked back at my blog to see what I’d had to say about it then but surprisingly there is really only a brief mention of it. I was the officiant and it was huge for me and my family. But maybe because I wasn’t making the food for the event there was not much for me to remark on (I’d happily have done that—although remembering that day I’m seriously happy I didn’t it was like 100 degrees and the whole deal was outside. I’d have had a freaking nervous breakdown, of course I would). Now that I’m feeding them nearly every week they get a fair amount of mentions.

I used a lemon blossom cluster as the cake decoration to distract from the uneven layers inside. 




Unseasonal foodstuffs

Really I should have been making a light spring vegetal pasta but it was cold and I was feeling the need for comfort. Meatballs are just the best at comforting, at least mine are, right up there with teddy bears, baby ducks and comforters. Mine need to be made the day before and rest in the sauce overnight. I hadn’t looked at the weather but the next day was like summer where meatballs are just out of place. Tough luck. It was a lovely summer-like day and I’d made meatballs, lasagna and even baked bread. A winter meal. But, Christ, it was the least of my worries.

Anyway, I didn’t eat it, I took it to my nephew’s, left it all, and then went to eat at my sister’s. She’d made something more appropriately springlike. Spinach and ricotta stuffed chicken breasts. They were amazing.