A happy foodie weekend—and a cuckoo clock

 

My new birdsong cuckoo clock

I have a new cuckoo clock! Forestalling any comments on the appropriateness of such a clock in my cottage, I hasten to tell you this one is different. It could say “Cuckoo!” but instead Christian set it to a bird song. On the hour, a little blue bird emerges and trills it song—I am not knowledgeable enough about birds to tell you what bird it is, but it is cheerful and, to my delight, not too loud (it doesn’t wake me at night). It has a repertoire of twelve birds’ songs, but the instructions are in German, so we may not change it often. Thanks to son Jamie for this cheerful addition to the cottage. I’m really enjoying it.

As my weekends often are, this one was devoted to food—but rather to writing about it almost more than preparing it. I keep finding recipes that fit into my cookbook featuring my mom’s cooking or my updates on it. I have now, I think, gone through most of the old files I have, but I also keep remembering things she fixed. Like salmon croquettes—I had written that she rarely cooked fish, claimed she didn’t know how. And then I remembered the croquettes, only because Jordan and I had my version (salmon patties) for supper Friday night. And today I remembered but haven’t written up that in that era of jellied foods, Mom had a fish-shaped mold and made a jellied salmon appetizer. Not sure I have—or want—the recipe, but it deserves a mention.

Jordan and I have seen a lot of each other this weekend and enjoyed it, at least I did. Friday nights Christan often has a late happy hour with a good friend, so it was just the two of us. I made extra patties in case he showed up hungry, but I’m not sure he would have eaten the salmon at all. He once told me his mom made them and described them as like hockey pucks (she liked all meats very well done). I do remember once he said he’d try mine, and he liked them, but he hasn’t seemed anxious to try again.

Fresh salmon was on sale at Central Market, so I ordered—what turned out to be a huge piece for Saturday supper for the three of us (Jacob never has weekend meals at home—ah, to be seventeen again!). At the last minute, Christan was invited to the rodeo. Saturday morning he was most apologetic about the last-minute change and then began to tell me how it was really good for his business, etc. I told him he didn’t have to rationalize, and he laughed. Jordan still wanted salmon but we discovered the pound and a half was big enough we could cut off portions for ourselves and still freeze the rest for a meal another time. Christian has promised to grill it. Last night I roasted it with a garlic/anchovy/butter sauce. Good, but one of those recipes I can’t follow exactly because it calls for starting the dish in a skillet and finishing it by putting the skillet in the oven. When you only have a toaster oven, that’s not possible. Still, it was good, and I enjoyed the tiny bit I saved for lunch today.

Tonight though was the big deal. Christan a couple of weeks ago requested carnitas, one of his favorite meals. I can’t tell you where I got the recipe, although some years ago I had an editor who taught me to cube a pork butt and cook it in simmering water until the water is all evaporated and the cubed meat crisps and browns in the fat. Then I found a recipe which adds spice to the water—orange peel, chopped onion and garlic, salt, bay leaves, oregano, cloves, and a cinnamon stick. The trouble is the water rarely evaporates in the time the recipe suggests, and I always worry that we’ll be sitting around until ten waiting for dinner. My prep time was lengthened because the boneless, cubed meat I ordered—wasn’t. I’d say at least ten percent was on the bone and hard to deal with, and instead of the one-inch cubes I requested, I got three- and four-inch pieces. I am honestly not a complainer, but I feel a call to Central Market coming on tomorrow.

Tonight I calculated two hours for it to cook—forty-five minutes longer than the recipe said. We ate at 7:30 which was only half an hour past my target time. We serve the meat with guacamole, sour cream, shredded Monterrey Jack, chopped cilantro, diced red onion and, of course, tortillas. For all my worry, it was really good tonight—full of flavor and very tender. It’s a lot of work and worry but worth it. I promised to do it again in six months.

So here we go into another week. Zenaida, who cleans the cottage, hasn’t been here since before Christmas, her schedule upset by holidays and weather, so Sophie and I are grateful she will be here in the morning, even though she’s coming at the awful hour of seven-thirty. And I have company coming for supper—I’ll need my nap.

May each of you have a blessed week. In Fort Worth, it will be sunny and in the sixties. We will be lulled into thinking winter is gone, but I am sure it is not. At least we can enjoy the good weather.