Mostly cooking

Marcia from El Paso claims she's missing her Judy's Stew fix because I haven't blogged enough lately, and I replied that I didn't think I had much to say except trivia. But I promised to post something tonight, so this is mostly a cooking blog. Last night I had lovely dinner guests--two couples fairly far apart in age but most compatible in spirit, and talk ranged from a scholarly interest in the history of comic books to the art of collecting to politics--we are all of the same mind but the discussion still got lively. And we ended the evening recounting a series of cooking failures (I hope that was not a reflection on my dinner).
I served a recipe I've looked at in my "appalling collection" for years and never tried--and of course I didn't read it carefully enough so I goofed several times. It was roast pork loin stuffed with an apricot mixture: I gleefully bought pork tenderloins, came home and read the recipe again, and that was not at all what was meant--it called for a loin roast. I figured I just wouldn't cook them as long. Then I forgot the part about divided use in the molasses and probably put too much in the stuffing, though it was pretty good. Then I didn't read carefully enough to realize that you were supposed to pour chicken broth and bourbon over the meat, roast it, and then add cream to the pan drippings. I added it at the beginning. But what was really cool was that I cooked that mixture--broth, bourbon, and cream--and then flamed it without burning myself. And I was amazed at how long it flamed merrily away. The accompanying recipe was for "Thunderbolt Mashed Potatoes"--seasoned with corn, cumin, chili powder. They were good but I made them the day before and didn't think I got them hot enough for dinner. To my mind the best was the apple crisp for dessert, but my oh my! it had a lot of butter, and I served it with real whipped cream. One of the guests, a man, looked at me and said, "Is this the real thing?" And his wife said, "It's better for you than the other kind." He ate two helpings.
Alas and alack, this morning I could barely button a favorite pair of pants, so I'm off bread, potatoes, etc., had a vinaigrette salad dressing tonight instead of that wonderful mayo/sourcream/blue cheese one I've recently invented, and limited my chocolate intake this afternoon.
Tonight I fixed spicy chicken fingers. Megan called, and I asked if she remembered them, and she did. You dust chicken tenders in flour mixed with salt, pepper and oregano, brown them in butter and olive oil, and then add diced Roma tomatoes, diced basil, garlic and lime juice. Such fun to pick the fresh basil, but I never use my fresh thyme--it's too strong.
No much else new. Everyone in the neighborhood is losing their political signs--but it's bipartisan. Both Obama and McCain signs are being stolen. I wonder if its a teenage prank or people with serious political beliefs and a distorted sense of American freedom of expression. They left the signs in my yard for a state senator and a state representative, just took the Obama one.
I started a British Victorian mystery over the weekend. I have to be careful about identifying titles or authors, because many of those authors I've now "met" through the Sisters in Crime network. But I seriously considered putting this one down several times. I persevered, however, and now I'm drawn into it. I decided maybe that's a huge difference between British and American cozies--in American cozies there's usually a body in the first chapter; in British ones, it takes you a long time to get drawn into the story. It may be too that I prefer to read about people I can identify with--contemporaries. I read a blurb recently for a mystery set in churches in Rome, but the protagonist was an American journalist, and I thought I'd really like to read that book. Like many that I read about on the Agent Quest listserv, it's unpublished now. I found one author has a series of Travel Agent Mysteries, so since Jordan is a travel agent I rushed to amazon--no luck. And then I realized that author, like me, is unpublished. I am working away though--and finishing that Victorian mystery.
Huge author's program tomorrow night--at least 500 tickets out, maybe more, for a venue that seats 450. It will be an interesting and long evening. Don't be surprised if I don't blog. Sorry, Marcia.