Last night I processed some pictures. Pictures of a certain Lodge, a certain basset hound named Charlie, and a certain woman named Ree Drummond. I’m thinking either Friday or Monday I will finally face the world with the PW Weekend series, part #1.
Why haven’t I snappity snapped out parts 1-70 already, you ask? Well, see, I have this guy that hangs around my apartment who likes to call himself my ‘husband’, and this man-creature has been requiring my attention for a couple evenings. I know–the nerve! But after all the busyness of the past couple weekends, we were waaaaay behind on our snuggling quota. And that may take priority over, um, blogging? Um, if that’s OK with you? So for today, a story of meat and ice cream and their ongoing battle in our home.
Are you upset that I’m making you wait? OK, fine.
Here’s a completely gratuitous picture of Ree. I snapped it last Friday night.
OK, great. And now for something completely different.
I blogged a while ago about how full our freezer was, and conveyed my hopes of freeing up some space so that for the first time in over a year we could fit in some ice cream.
That hasn’t happened yet, but to spur ourselves on towards our goal, we have officially inaugurated the policy of using the food we have until the ice cream fits. I am no longer welcome to shop in the fish or meat section of our grocery store and refill the freezer gaps we create with new frozen delights. And I’ve only broken this rule about 3 times! I consider that a triumph. The only thing I’m truly dreading is having to cook that dang duck. Duck seems like the kind of dish that could go horribly wrong, doesn’t it?
Significant progress was made in Project Ice Cream Space a few Saturdays ago, when the late hour of 10pm found us immersed in a cooking tornado.
The second arm roast from my grandfather Big Jake, an unwieldly hunk of meat responsible for occupying a solid 15% of our freezer, had been defrosting all day. From experience, we knew this arm roast would not fit into one pot. So we did it again–we made two pot roasts out of the one arm roast.
Have you ever cooked late at night? It has a completely different feel to it. It adds a component of madness. And frenzy–a frenzy to get to the relaxing part of Saturday night. Knives, onion skins, and raw meat seemed to be everywhere.
I used the same recipe that I’ve shared before. It has blueberries, it has balsamic vinegar, and if you don’t try this amazing combination, the word ‘friend’ will hold no more meaning betwixt us. That’s right, it’s a pot roast ultimatum.
I just have to draw the line between ‘friends’ and ‘enemies’ somewhere, folks. I hold firm to my values of peace, love, truth, Balsamic Blueberry Pot Roast Delight, and justice.
Just kidding! Please keep being my friend. Thank you.
By the end of all the cookery we were ready to settle in and watch a movie. My dishwasher/sous chef was pretty beat.
I dutifully set my alarm for 6am the next day so that I could pop the roasts in the oven bright and early. . . and then scramble back into bed.
As a result of all this madness, soon our freezer will have room for some French Vanilla. Chocolate Caramel. Peanut Butter Chocolate. Mango Sorbet.
Since the theme of this post is obviously ‘excess,’ tomorrow I will be posting the result of another excessive venture: Mini Pumpkin Muffins. They are delicious. They are addictive. And the recipe made 72 of these little orange guys. That’s for a household of 2 people. I’ve been eating those guys for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and hoping that my metabolism can just pretend they never happened.
Please do some magical math and make the dozens of mini pumpkin muffins I ate become a smaller number. Please take any excess fat that may have been consumed and churn it into energy as quickly as possible. Do not allow the aforesaid fat to think it’s welcome to stay. It’s not! It must go! EVERYTHING MUST GO!
Anyway, I promise to do some leg lifts or something tomorrow when I have some more time, and we can make ammends with the laws of physics and biology at that point.
Thank you for your consideration,
P.S. This is especially urgent since project ice cream space is about to allow more fat-laden foods into my home. Please get back to me with a response at your earliest convenience.
Recipe for mini pumpkin muffies will be up tomorrow! You may want to write advance letters to your own metabolism–or invite over 72 friends so that there is a ratio of only one muffin per person.