Sophie with her guilty look.
Yes, she ate a basket of zucchini crisps.
A lovely couple of evenings
with friends for happy hour last night and supper tonight. Last night Phil and
Subie came. I experimented on what was supposed to be zucchini crisps—one of
those recipes that sound too easy and good to be true. Just sliced zucchini
topped with Parmesan and cooked in the air fryer. First time I ever tried my
air fryer so I’m not sure if that was the problem or not. First, Subie
announced she didn’t really like zucchini. At the time I thought these would come
out crisp, like potato chips, so I assured her this would be different. It wasn’t.
What we got were soggy pieces of zucchini with Parmesan on top. To add to my
embarrassment, Sophie managed to grab the entire basket and devour the contents
after we’d each had maybe two slices apiece and had voted against keeping the
recipe. Subie asked if that would be a problem with Sophie’s stomach, but I
assure her it wouldn’t. And it wasn’t.
Sophie was, however, a problem
in another way. She got into one of her incessant barking phrases, so much so that
Phil threatened to go home. I fed her a small bone treat, and she was quiet—but
that goes against all my child-raising and dog-raising theories. I guess it’s a
bit late with Sophie. She knows very well when she’s been naughty and won’t
look any of us in the eye.
Tonight, Jean came for supper.
She, Jordan, and I sat on the patio with wine—a perfectly lovely evening.
Mostly the talk was about Jordan’s upcoming trips to San Miguel, Paris, and
Iceland (talk about a weird itinerary!). After we went inside, I put together
salmon burgers, for once following a recipe because when I do it off the top of
my head they are never the right consistency. Recipe or no, these weren’t
either—way too dry to hold together, so I added mayonnaise, perhaps too much.
Three of the five fell apart when I flipped them. We ate the two that held together
in buns loaded with lettuce, tomato, and onion. Good, but you’d never want to
eat it in public. Salmon burgers are one of those things for which I have yet to find the perfect recipe, but I will do it! Jean and I sat long after supper, solving the problems not of
the world but of being in your seventies and eighties—uncharted territory. It’s
good to have someone to have those discussions with.
It has been a rushed
twenty-four hours for me. Somehow, I forgot that yesterday was the deadline for
submissions to the May issue of the neighborhood newsletter I edit. So there I
was—a deadline and no articles. I sent out an urgent plea on the neighborhood
email, taking full responsibility, and was overwhelmed with the response. I got
so many articles and photos that I was up until midnight editing, and it was
noon today before I sent the issue to the designer. I am so grateful for neighbors
who have my back when I make such a mistake. I think this may be one of the
best issues ever. But gosh, it was a lot of work, all with the pressure of a
deadline. Tonight I am glad to have the mundane—a grocery order and a blog.
Then I get to read the novel I’m enjoying—All Stirred Up! a culinary novel,
love story of sorts, set in Edinburgh. Lots of Scottish life, lots of recipes.
My cup of tea.
I reached a big decision the
last couple of days. Many of you know that I have, for years now, been working
off and on to write a book about Neiman Marcus doyenne of food service, Helen
Corbitt, and how she fit into the changing foodways of America in mid-century,
particularly her enormous impact on the way Texans ate and viewed food. I find
the material fascinating. But when it came to writing the book, I came up
short. Corbitt left behind cookbooks and articles galore but almost no record
of herself a an individual. What was her childhood like? Why did she never
marry? What’s the story behind those three times she was supposedly engaged?
What was she like as a person? What we have is all surface stuff. I came up
with a 30K-word manuscript, about half what’s needed for even a short book.
I even tried telling the story
as fiction from the first-person point of view. But I couldn’t get the voice
right—because I didn’t know enough about her. I was getting depressed and
sending myself all sorts of negative messages. I have put this project aside
and come back to it many times. Now I have decided to put it aside probably
forever. And I feel a sense of freedom.
So, once again, I have an
optimistic outlook on life and what I’m doing. I’m sure there will be further
bulletins, if you are interested.
Happy Fridy night, everyone.
Enjoy the weekend.
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