Long day, good dinner

 

My first attempt at coulibiac

Whoosh! A long day, and I am so done. Started way too early when I got up to get a bit done before a 9:00 a.m. dental cleaning appointment. Dental appointments of any kind raise my anxiety level. My explanation is that I was traumatized by the drill when I was a kid. I had poor enamel on my teeth and, subsequently, a lot of cavities. Back then, in what I almost think of as pre-historical times, the dentist’s drill was a monster—slow and clumsy. Getting a cavity filled was excruciating.

To this day I fear drilling, and I don’t much like that hydroelectric whatever it is that they use to clean. I was happy during the early stages of quarantine when hygienists were told not to use it for health concerns—it sprayed water everywhere and could spray the virus. When they went back to it, I struck a bargain with my hygienist, whom I like a lot: if I continued to take excellent care of my teeth, she would clean them the old-fashioned way, with hand-scraping. The dentist kind of put the kibosh on that today when he explained that it really isn’t as effective. He hinted that they might have to go back to that thing with its high sound and bad memories But, hey, if that’s the worst of his bad news, I’m okay

I forgot the dental appointment when I invited Jean and Betty for supper tonight. Betty and I had dinner together on Wednesday nights for years. In the last few years, as Jean’s husband’s memory failed and he had to be in a memory care unit, we invited her to join us. Jean and I have kept up during quarantine—because she was alone and because we enjoy her company, we invited her over frequently. But neither of us have seen Betty in well over a year—just when we were coming out of quarantine, she fell and broke her hip. So tonight, we a long overdue first.

But the dental appointment took longer than I expected—probably because I insisted on the old way of cleaning—and I came home to cook. It wasn’t hard, but it took a lot of time. I made individual servings of coulibiac, a Russian dish of pastry filled with a salmon mixture There are lots of versions, but usually the dish calls for fresh salmon and one large serving, which is then sliced and served. I have a recipe that has survived my downsizings and sweeping cleaning out of my appalling collection for years. I’m not sure if I’ve ever made it before or not, but I was determined to try.

The recipe called for canned salmon (I have that good canned stuff that I order from Oregon) along with finely diced carrots, onion, and celery, thinly sliced mushrooms, a bit of lemon juice, sour cream, and dill (which I promptly forgot). This mixture was encased in puff pastry (although the recipe is so old it called for pre-made pie dough—many online coulibiac recipes call for puff pastry).

I’m no expert at working with puff pastry. The first sheet made three servings and went fine; the second, not so good. The dough got too warm, soft and hard to deal with. Five minutes in the freezer was not as helpful as I hoped. Finally got it all together and re-read the directions I’d been thinking I’d cook it while we had a glass of wine—but on re-reading I found it was to be served cold.

I finally ended up with six presentable pieces of coulibiac. They aren’t beauties, but they tasted delicious (even without the dill). Served them with marinated veggies, the easiest salad I ever make. And it keeps in the fridge for days. I simply use Newman’s Own Vinaigrette Oil and Vinegar as a marinade. Jordan is anticipating helping me finish the leftovers

Betty brought dessert—her signature banana pudding with real whipped cream So good, so rich, I am so full. Clever woman that she is, she served it in disposable plastic glasses. I have a bit left over for breakfast tomorrow.

So now, once again, I have cooked myself out and am going to rest on my laurels, if any, and do some writing work. But first, I may have to have a nap.