Some plans go awry

 

This started out to be a great cooking weekend, but somehow it went amuck. Okay, not somehow—I know what happened.

Last night Jordan and I welcomed Renee, a minister at our church and a good friend. We planned a girls’ evening, and I came up with an experimental light supper—I had the idea, and Jordan carried it out beautifully. She mixed flaked tuna with tabouleh, topped it with lemon, avocado, and good Greek yogurt. Then she put a dab of hummus on the side of each bowl. Delicious, looked gorgeous in the bowl, and so filling! Anyway it was the cooking success I hoped for. Tonight not so much.

Jacob came home from two weeks at Sky Ranch camp tonight. That is, Jordan and Christian drove to Van in East Texas to pick him up. He had been on a bus from Colorado all night. The plan was to have a welcome-home celebratory dinner, and Jordan chose carnitas for the entrée, because that’s something he likes. First mistake.

I make carnitas the way a man who once worked in my office taught me—simmer cubes of pork butt until the liquid disappears and the meat gets crusty. That makes a simple boiled pork dinner, but if you season the water, you get carnitas. I add onion, garlic, orange peel, bay leaves oregano, cloves, a cinnamon stick—I guess that’s all. I’ve made it a lot before, and usually it turns out great, but tonight the liquid would not cook down no matter what we did. I figure I made two mistakes: too much liquid and not long enough cooking. Easy enough to correct next time, and there will be a next time because I ordered 2.5 lbs. of beef in cubes and got 4.35 lbs. So I have leftovers in the freezer. And to add to my discontent, the one-inch cubes I requested were big hunks of meat, so I spent a lot of time cutting them into one-inch cubes. Next time I will be firm in my request. Another lesson learned: my knives need sharpening, even my big, good chef’s knife.

And then Christian suddenly had to go to Plano for a memorial service for a high school friend. So that dinner for four planned for seven o’clock? Three of us sat down at almost eight-thirty, and I have to say our tempers were a bit testy from hunger. We do have good leftovers for lunch tomorrow.

Jacob responded easily to questions about his camp experience—he loved it. No swimming, which astounded me. Why go to camp if you don’t swim? They did play soccer, football, baseball, etc. They also had Bible study—Ephesians, but he was a little shaky on the content when asked. That’s okay because I’m a bit shaky too. We both know that Ephesians is letters Paul wrote while in prison.

But for me the big disappointment came when he talked about group singing, which he apparently enjoyed. I asked if they sang “Kumbala,” or “Michael Rowed the Boat Ashore,” and he looked at me blankly and said, “I don’t know what those are.” They sang country songs, like “Country Roads” and others I’d never heard of. So I guess we’re even. But it makes me sad to think that those songs, which I always thought generations sang, are fading from memory. Jordan challenged me to sing “Michael Rowed the Boat Ashore,” but I may just have to find a rendition online for her. And I bet Jacob has no idea who Joan Baez is. Travesty.

So tomorrow night, one more experiment: I read about baking potatoes the British way. Two hours in a 400^o degree oven. Instead of poking them all over with a fork, you cut a deep cross in the top. The long cooking time makes the skins really crisp. Then you take them out, cut the cross deeper, and return to the oven for ten minutes. This is supposed to make the potato meat fluffy. We’re having steak tomorrow night, so I’ll report on how the potatoes do.

My day was work—I wrote 800 words, which is really good for a nonfiction project—and I napped and made carnitas. And that sums up the day. I did finish a new mystery which I thoroughly enjoyed: Murder in G Major by Alexia Gordon. An African-American classical musician is stranded in a small Irish village and challenged with transforming the rowdy musicians of the local boys’ school into an award-winning orchestra. But along the way she shares a cottage with an absolutely charming ghost and uncovers a lot of old murders—and some new ones. Will hers be next? Good story. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

One never knows what tomorrow will bring. Sweet dreams, everyone.