A rich dinner, kitchen goofs, and more football

 

There’s a meme going around on Facebook asking what food you think of when you think of your father. My instant answer, with my Canadian father who was an Anglophile—leg of lamb. Some time ago I was given a generous gift certificate to Whole Foods, and I blew the whole thing on a butterflied leg of lamb. So tonight we ate high on the hog—leg of lamb, twice-baked potatoes, and salad. I should/could have marinated the lamb overnight, but I didn’t get to it, and this morning the day started off so oddly with the time change that it was late morning before I got the marinade made. So I put it in the fridge until late afternoon and then marinated it at room temperature. I haven’t made twice-baked potatoes in a long time, so I printed out a recipe to get the proportions right. Then I figured out what I was doing and threw the recipe away. The result was a truly magnificent meal. The lamb was tender and just done right—pink, so it was neither over- nor under-done. Kudos to Christian, our grill master. Shh. Don’t tell, but I put a bit of buttermilk in the potatoes. Made them creamy and gave them just the slightest tang. I am ready for a nap. But then, my biological clock hasn’t adjusted to the time change.

It’s a good thing I made a good dinner, because maybe it counterbalances all my kitchen “oops” moments of yesterday. I started out to make apple crisp for me and Jean. I will never ever work with Granny Smith apples again. I know, they’re recommended for pies and desserts and the like. But they were the hardest things to cut that I’ve ever encountered. I finally ended up nicking a finger, which bled all over half of one apple. Finger pricks always bleed a lot, and I am on blood thinners, so it was a gusher. I got a band aid, finished cutting the apple into chunks instead of the recommended thin slices and gave up. Then I started on the artichoke/spinach pasta, a dish I’ve wanted to make for a long time but haven’t because of the tastes—or non-tastes—of some of the family. Problem: no artichokes. I always have a can in my pantry drawer. Took it completely apart—no artichokes. Jean stopped at Target to buy a can and met a bewildering array of choices—large, medium, small, quartered, whole, etc.

I’m happy to report that both the pasta dish and the apple crisp turned out great. My leftover half of the crisp was particularly good for breakfast this morning. But I have a gentle reminder—a finger that is slightly sore when I type, from the nick.

Sophie also hasn’t gotten her biological clock in order. She has been a pain all day—wanting in, wanting out, wanting in again, not sure what she wants. I leave the door ajar just a crack because she knows to paw it open—when she will, which is not all the time. Sometimes she throws herself against the door, which does nothing but securely close it. Then she barks, whine, growls, and mutters until I get up to do her bidding. This morning she slept until 8:30 on the old time, which was 7:30 on the new, but I was able to entice her in after a few minutes so I could go back to bed. Praying she adjusts soon.

Gary Patterson continues to be prominent in local headlines and on Facebook. A few people posted today to say, in effect, “We won without him.” The truth is, of course, that yesterday’s triumph over Baylor was his win. He worked with those kids all week, though officially no longer coach, and he planned the game. I think that’s called integrity. Those who didn’t recognize that mostly got slapped down for being rude, inconsiderate, etc. Tonight, between Christian and Jacob, I finally got some idea of what NIL means and why Patterson said he would lose kids when it became effective. Name, Image, Likeness—the new ruling means college players can be compensated and give endorsements. It’s a huge step toward making professionals out of amateurs or college kids, and I can see how it will weaken programs. Once more, money is ruining the intent of college football—kids play for money, not the glory of the school or a post-graduate career. And schools pay exorbitant sums to shine on the football field. I admit I was astounded when I first heard Patterson’s salary. I’m old school, but I do think money is ruining college sports.

And so we begin another week. I hope it’s a good one for each and every one of you.