Shipboard duck dinner
The tour report is not much today—pictures
of yesterday’s dinner which consisted of two plates, one of duck and one of lobster.
Both were “continental” size servings, though taken together they probably made
a substantial meal. I could not tell how the lobster was fixed. Today’s dinner
was lamb, Brussel sprouts, potato, vegetable quiche—much more substantial. Jordan
reports that they are in the main crossing now, whatever that means.
I finally had to look at a map
to see where my child is going. It was not easy to find—oh, I found lots of
maps of Iceland, but few that showed its physical relation to other countries
and some that did were in foreign languages. I have finally figured it out though—Iceland
is quite a way north and to the west of England, closer to Greenland and kind
of between the Scandinavian countries and Greenland. The ship now must be in
the open water between England and Iceland. I’m not sure when they reach
Reykjavik. As I looked, I was reminded of horrendous statistics about what
Americans don’t know about world geography, and I plead guilty.
Closer to home, while Jordan was
eating those European-style gourmet meals, I was fixing King Ranch casserole, a
dish I’ve been making for well over fifty years and can do in my sleep. It’s
not even Tex-Mex—the only claim to southwestern cuisine is the half can or
however much Rotel you put in. But it’s good. I made it for two friends who
came for supper because we couldn’t go out—due to temporary health problems,
neither of them can lift my walker in and out of a car, so the only solution
was to eat here. Usually with these two, Subie joins us, but she could not
tonight. She got a good laugh, however, out of the fact that we couldn’t go
without her. I said it may not be too long before I can never go out to dinner
because all my friends have gotten too old to lift my walker!
We did have a good visit—Kathie
brought great guac, and Carol cleaned the kitchen, put away the food, did
everything but wash the dishes, which I accomplished in no time after they
left. Like many of my friends, their lives revolve around the Trinity Terrace
retirement community—Carol and her husband have just moved in, and while Kathie
has a condo in nearby Arlington, her gentleman friend lives at TT and she dines
there with him every night, or so I gathered.
Despite the fact that so many
of my friends live there, I am still much happier in my cottage, though I often
feel a bit defensive about it. Sometimes what I hear about retirement community
life reminds me of a college dorm, and I never did like dorm life. I am also
claustrophobic enough that I would not want to have to do elevators alone, and
I surely would not want to have to take an elevator down to the dog park every
time Sophie wanted to go out. She is in and out ten times a day, and it’s much
easier just to open the French doors. These lovely spring days, the door is open
all the time, with a free-hanging screen over it, and she can come and go as
she pleases.
Tonight’s dinner demonstrates
another aspect of life in the cottage that I truly value—my kitchen, and the
fact that I cook. Residents at Trinity Terrace—and most other retirement
communities—have to buy a meal plan and use a certain number of meal points in
the community dining areas each month. No matter how much I’ve heard several say
they intend to continue to cook, they end up eating in either the cafeteria or
the upscale, white linen tablecloth dining room. I’ve eaten there several times
and thoroughly enjoyed it—but I would soon tire of it if I ate there every
night. Sort of like the pre-packaged meals Jamie so sweetly sent me—I want to
do my own meal planning.
And so I did tonight—making a
grocery list for the coronation dinner I’ll fix Saturday night—so far just Jean
and me, but we’ll have smoked salmon and coronation chicken salad and green pea
salad. And then I planned meals that Jordan might like her first couple of
nights at home—chicken dishes but not casseroles! —and a dinner for the adventuresome
eater who dines with me about once a month and will be here later in the week.
Plus tomorrow is the day for
my weekly cooking column, so I considered recipes for that. Want to know about cacio
e peppe and why it is considered the ultimate test of an Italian chef? Read
about it tomorrow.
Tonight my desk is full of
projects—a couple of articles to be pulled from the Corbitt manuscript, a guest
blog to write, that memoir to think about. I’m a happy camper. But I also downloaded
the newest in the Country Club Murders series, so that’s my project for what’s
left of the evening. Color me happy. How about you? Where are you on the scale
of happiness?
