Lazy Sunday and the end of the cruise

 

At a waterfall on Iceland's Golden Circle

If Sunday is the day the Lord intended for rest, it really worked out today. After getting up with Sophie twice, I dawdled my way through the morning. It was a day when I had good leftovers for lunch—no need to wonder what to fix—and Christian was fixing the dinner, from one of those prepared meal kits Jamie sent. This was southwestern beef and macaroni—unusual seasonings but good and what was supposed to feed four looked like it would feed eight. My contribution to the meal—and the most cooking I did all day—was to cut up and toss a salad.

For me, much of the day was spent in anger and rebellion at our governor’s reaction to the most recent mass shooting. Governor Abbott is getting a lot of feedback of the negative sort—okay, criticism—for his statement that the killings would not change gun laws. Texas, he said, is going after mental health problems, as though he had just invented the thought. It’s not sitting well with his constituents, but that’s a post for another evening because I think we need to flood the governor with critical emails. His position is untenable.

But meantime, at the Alter/Burton compound, we await Jordan’s return from her grand adventure in Paris, onboard the cruise ship, and then in Reykjavik. Somehow, I have lost some of the pictures, but I’ll try to give a picture tour. What stands out is that Jordan had lovely meals and glasses of wine—or maybe those were the pictures she took because she knows her mother is a foodie. But at every turn, she was having a scrumptious meal, many of them based on fish. That does and doesn’t surprise me—she’s always been a good fish eater, but she’s wanted other things besides. This trip she ate mostly whitefish, though there were the eggs Benedict. And she ate everywhere from the captain’s table to the deck of the ship to a tomato farm.

Tomato lunch

Two of her Reykjavik adventures that struck me as most interesting were a visit to one of Iceland’s large tomato farms—who knew? Apparently since the climate is not conducive to growing tomatoes outdoors, Icelanders grow them in huge hothouses! Jordan apparently toured one and had a spectacular meal. The other excursion that interested me was to Golden Circle, one of Iceland’s most popular tourist attractions, a circular route that visits geysers, waterfalls, hot
springs, and volcanic craters.

Great presentation at the
tomato farm

From scattered pictures that I saw, Reykjavik appears to be a city of modern buildings, many painted in warm and wild colors, perhaps to warm the people through long, cold nights? And for her last night there, Jordan had a spectacular meal.

Reykjavik

Now she has texted that she’s landed at DFW, although she’s still at the airport, presumably going through customs. It’s just shy of nine o’clock, and she’s been up since one a.m. our time. I don’t expect a detailed report tonight, but I will be glad to have her home and a bit in awe of her adventure.

Last dinner - scallops

Whitefish followed the 
scalops

Kings, crowns, and horses

 

Coronation supper
Like much of my cooking,
it tasted better than it looked.

What a day! The first British coronation in seventy years and the Kentucky Derby! I come by my fascination with the coronation naturally. My father was born in Canada, served in the Canadian army with British troops during WWI (honest! That long ago!) and was a dedicated Anglophile all his life. When I was growing up, we ate a lot of lamb and potatoes, sang “Annie Laurie” around the piano on Sunday nights, and traced our Scottish heritage back to Gilles McBain, the hero of the battle (slaughter?) at Culloden.

I remember being wakened at three or so in the morning to listen to Elizabeth’s coronation on a scratchy radio. At thirteen or fourteen, the significance escaped me, but I sensed from Dad that it was a momentous occasion. This time I confess I didn’t get up—live coverage was just ending when I turned on the TV this morning, but I will watch for re-runs tonight. (A note later: there was no special coverage later in the day--what a disappointment.)

This time, there was a noisy anti-monarchy faction among the throngs cheering the king. They wore yellow outfits and shouted, “Not my king!” I dismissed them as low-lifes with no class. I know the arguments—the monarchy is outdated, the royals live in luxury while Brits pay high taxes to support their lifestyle. What critics fail to recognize is that being a part of “the company” is hard work, with countless charitable appearances required—and donations made. They do many good things not just in England but throughout the world. Beyond that, I like the symbolism of the monarchy: it stands for unity, something that holds a country together (most of the country anyway). In America, where we are so divided, we need something like that that reminds us we are one country, loyal to each other and to our country. Besides, and maybe this is my heritage, I love the ceremony and pageantry.

Having those two events on the same day presented the kind of cooking dilemma I cherish. Should I cook coronation chicken salad or Kentucky Hot Browns? I chose the chicken salad, although the British royals eschewed it today in favor of a quiche—how pedestrian! The chicken salad is in my fridge as I write. It is made with lots of the flavors of India, reminiscent of the days when the British Empire stretched from one horizon to the next—curry, chutney, raisins, and toasted almonds (yes, I had to toast two batches because I burned the first).

My fridge also holds pea salad, one of those things that I usually make from scratch without a recipe. But when I came across a recipe, I decided to follow it—after all, I had never put vinegar and Worcestershire in pea salad. The recipe began with instructions to cook bacon. I did but with some reluctance. I’m not all that sure about bacon in pea salad. When I got to the end, you combine everything but the bacon, chill for hours, and add the bacon just before serving. So why cook it hours ahead? I had a bacon sandwich for lunch and decided against adding it tonight!

Kentucky Hot Browns are a draw though, and I may have to do them soon. Open-faced sandwiches with turkey and tomato, slathered with Mornay sauce, and topped with bacon—there It is again, but this time more appropriate to the dish. Of course, if you eat a Hot Brown, you should drink a Mint Julep. Not being a racing fan (all those dead horses!), I usually watch the high-tension two minutes at home and don’t go to parties. But I did one year, drank not one but two (they taste so good), and was home in bed by six o’clock. Lethal!

Later in the evening

My coronation chicken salad was delicious—flavors I never would think of, but they worked well together. I loved it. And the pea salad, with no bacon, was good. Jean announced pea salad was one of the few things she doesn’t like but she would eat mine, so I have her a small helping. Quite quickly she asked if it was all right if she helped herself to more. Win!

Renee came by with her daughter-in-law, Courtney, who is in town from Austin to babysit the dogs of our friends Teddy and Sue. Lovely visit. Courtney is a delight and a true dog person, and we had lots of talk about.

But one clap of thunder, and they were all out of here almost instantly. I was left wondering what happened to my nice party. We’ve had lots of thunder since—and one really huge loud clap that sounded directly overhead. But, no rain. Sophie, however, is keeping close to me.

How sad to have a day of pageantry, on both sides of the pond, end with yet another mass shooting in Texas. Nine dead, seven injured in a shooting at a mall in Allen, north of the Metroplex. Yes, it was an AR-15. Gov. Abbott was quick to offer all support the state could give, but that's after the fact. He has not done one thing to prevent these tragedies. Indeed, he has loosened laws so that now anyone can get a weapon, without a license, without training. There were children among the victims tonight. Gov. Abbott, blood is on your hands. Texans, we must do something to curtail this senseless killing.

Seems almost inane now to say that tomorrow will be a lazy day, with leftovers for lunch, and I think Christian is cooking supper. I have a writing project but I’m not ready to talk about it. And tomorrow night, well after supper, Jordan will come home. We will all be so glad to have her home again, but I’m sure she’s a bit nostalgic about ending her adventure. How lucky we are to have this normal life with its moments of joy--for nine people, that will never happen again. I am heartbroken.