phew

Bike ride.


Sunset.


Wine club.

and we're back

Well, sort of. I'd planned to begin the first full week of the first year of the new decade with my ducks in a row: house cleaned, office organized, laundry done, bills paid, e-mails replied to, hair washed, dog groomed, fridge and cupboards stocked. But my house and office are a mess, my dirty clothes still in the suitcase, my inbox full, the pot of gruel I cooked to sustain me this week inedible. I haven't showered in days, let alone brushed the teeth and cleaned the ears of my dog.

So. We really are back: Back to exactly where we were when I left off last year, spending more time with my fleece-clad ass on the couch than my nose to the grindstone.

A toast, then, to the couch.

Wait. Do you need something to fill your glass? A nice wine to sip while you sit on your couch, toasting your couch? (God, I love my couch. It's an oasis. An oasis of denial and procrastination, but a nice place nonetheless.) Because I have a recommendation. Not for a specific bottle of wine—Couch Jedis are too lazy by nature to be oenophiles (though we do have strong opinions about what's good and bad)—but a recommendation for where to find wine recommendations.

For awhile now I've relied on the wine reviews of a guy called Tuta who writes for a local wine shop. And now Tuta has started his own wine bl*g, which means that I can sit on my couch drinking wine and reading about wines I hope to one day buy and drink while sitting on my couch. (It's called the circle of life, people.)

The yachtsman and I are not big spenders—we rarely buy a bottle for ourselves that costs more than $15, and we must love people very, very much to bring them a bottle that costs more than $20. But even when the wine Tuta's reviewing is out of my price range, I enjoy his writing. He provides interesting historical background and describes food pairings that make me salivate, but what I like best is the way he makes the often-stuffy language of wine accessible: "The taste is lightly herbal—a sprig of juniper, a crab apple, a pine cone—like things a child might bring home from a long walk." Because I can rarely find the crab apple or the pine cone in a glass of wine, but I think I could taste the treasures found on a long walk.

Cheers, then, to the couch and to the dirty floor on which the couch sits. To the wine we'll drink, to the dog's unbrushed teeth, to resolutions and good intentions. To things changing, and to things staying the same.

i'm not exaggerating when i say he's the best dog in the world

Hello, frenemies. It's been a tough day here at GFD HQ. I rolled out of bed at 7:15 a.m. (which is a full hour earlier than I usually rise, and two full hours earlier than I like to get up) to get started on the redonkulous amount of work I have to do (still!). I'd made a tight little schedule (7:15: wake up; 7:16: pee; 7:17: drink a glass of water), but the best laid plans of mice and men and little dogs go oft awry.

At 7:18 our little dog sneezed; at 9:30 we were still sopping up the blood from his hemorrhaging nose. When the vet used the word "euthanasia" on the phone at 9:44 a.m., I laid on the recently mopped floor and sobbed for two hours. Which was not on the schedule. Then I euthanized the vet, and around noon got down to work.

All of which is to say, I don't have much energy for bl*gging. So I offer you Mojie's ace-in-the-hole, which she served to me this past Saturday night. It was a farm-to-table dinner, the farm being Mojie's front-yard garden, the table being one I eat at as regularly as I can invite myself over, and the dinner being delicious.


Linguine With Tomatoes and Basil

4 ripe tomatoes, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
1 pound Brie cheese, rind removed, torn into irregular pieces [Mojie did not use brie, thank god -- any ripe, soft-ish cheese will do; see Mojie's other recipe notes below.]
1 cup cleaned fresh basil leaves, cut into strips
3 garlic cloves, peeled and finely minced
1 cup best quality olive oil
salt to taste
1/2 tsp freshly ground pepper
1 1/2 pounds linguine
freshly grated imported Parmesan cheese (optional)

1. Combine tomatoes, brie, basil, garlic, 1 cup olive oil, salt and pepper in a large serving bowl. Prepare at least 2 hours before serving and set aside, covered, at room temperature.

2. Bring 6 quarts of water to a boil in a large pot. Add the linguine and boil until al dente, about 10 minutes.

3. Drain pasta and immediately toss with the tomato sauce. Serve immediately

[Notes from Mojie: "I didn't use brie and I used some big tomatoes and some sun golds and I didn't bother with the parmesan cheese."]

And because we were celebrating the yachtsman's birthday, my stepmother made a blueberry pound cake from an ancient family recipe (speaking of dogs, it seems relevant that I mention here that my stepmother was called Candy growing up, and she had a dog named Bimbo; I'm just sayin'):


And because we were celebrating the yachtsman's birthday, Mojie provided some fancy, local red meat. Here's what the big boys ate:


I'm thinking my little dog deserves a nice steak right about now. He can eat the ribeye while I crawl into that bottle of pink wine.

i would like you, too, to be surfing the internet instead of getting any work done

The yachtsman used to work for Greenpeace, and recently sent along the following two items.

A video of an action they did on Mount Rushmore:



Amazing photos from Greenland (click here to see more):


Seriously, though, you may be able to go home at 5:00, but I have to sit here not doing my work until I get my work done. Though sometime soon I may be sitting here not doing my work until I get my work done with a glass of pink wine in my hand.

pink wino

Chris & I are hooked on this pink wine right now.


I guess a person who is "hooked on" wine is probably an "alcoholic," but whatevs. It's summer (sort of), and this pink wine is refreshing and a little fizzy and not too sweet and quite drinkable. Too drinkable, probably, but, like I said, whatevs.

Drinking pink wine out of a Coke glass...make that a classy "alcoholic."

You can buy a bottle of your own at City Market or Healthy Living for a mere $8.99. Or I'll pour you a glass when you come over for the intervention.

cooking bender, part 2

I've got a real thing for lentils. I've also got a real thing for bacon. Last week on his bl*g Bitten, Mark Bittman mentioned a lentil dish with bacon he'd eaten in France, and then vaguely described it. Lucky for me, my stepmom was around to help me translate Mark Bittman's non-recipe into something we could actually eat. Here is a loose interpretation of what we made.

Smoky French Lentils
~5 slices of bacon
olive oil
a carrot
a few scallions, chopped
a tomato or two, chopped
~2 cups of French lentils
water
Dijon mustard
Red wine vinegar
Glass of wine for drinking

1. Mince the bacon and saute it in a little olive oil. Grate in the carrot (or not), add the chopped scallions (or garlic or onion or whatever), and continue to saute while you sip your wine and enjoy the amazing smell in your kitchen. Add the tomatoes. When the moment feels right, add the lentils. Add just enough water to cover the lentils and then cook until they are tender, adding more boiling water if necessary. How long this takes doesn't really matter, as you'll be pouring yourself a second glass of wine and feeling very much like Julia Child as you take the top off the pot and taste the lentils, glass of wine in one hand, wooden spoon in the other. When the lentils are cooked to your liking (Bittman recommends that they be very thoroughly cooked; this is tasty but sort of ugly, so if you're really looking to impress, cook them al dente), add a couple of tablespoons of the mustard (or more or less to taste) and a splash or two of red wine vinegar (or more or less to taste). We served ours on a bed of micro spinach, which was delicious and helped pretty it up.


But this morning I've been eating the leftovers straight from the fridge. Still delicious, not so pretty, too early in the day for wine.

eat, pray, stalk

I may or may not be stalking M. LaBee, the baker formerly known as The Mister Who Would Not Watch Gossip Girl (if you are one of the seven bl*g readers able to follow that sentence, I love and am available to stalk you, too, if you're looking for some attention). It may or may not be coincidence that we've "run into each other" three times in the past two days. Regardless, like most of M. LaBee's stalkers friends, I will do anything he tells me to except leave him alone respect his opinion. For example, last night I took his suggestion and ate dinner at Bite Me; I even got the pizza he recommended (Homage to Goats: Rosemary-roasted fingerling potatoes, chevre, baby arugula, roasted garlic, asiago & mozzarella cheeses, finished with a balsamic oil glaze). Chris and I now officially love that place: we love the food, we love the art, we love the candles, we love the nice guy behind the counter, we love the nice guy who cooks the pizza, we love the nice guy who recommended it...we cannot, however, bring ourselves to love the Grateful Dead playing over the speakers.

Praying

Waiting

Eating

And this afternoon I'm meeting M. LaBee so he can help me select some wine for my wine cellar drinking pleasure. Instead of buying one bottle every few days, I'm going to buy six at once and save 10%. See, Chris? I'm not splurging on booze, I'm a bargain stalker shopper!

Which goes to show, it really pays to be a stalker friends with M. LaBee; I have a feeling it would pay even more to have a slave baker. All in good time...

i have resumed my wifely duties

I finally made it to the grocery store yesterday afternoon, but I was still pretty out of it and I went to Healthy Living, which is laid out in concentric circles designed to trap shoppers there forever. The fifth or sixth time I wandered by him with my empty basket and vacant stare, the wine salesman stopped me and asked if I needed help; I'm pretty sure he meant help of the mental health variety but I pretended we both thought he was offering help buying wine, which meant I had to purchase three bottles to keep up the charade (pronounced sha-rod). I also managed to buy some artic char and citrus fruit, which inspired me to finally try Mark Bittman's Maya citrus salsa.


Chris and I both gave it 4 out of 5 entree stars, though I think maybe Chris is trying to be nice to me because after three weeks in the convent I have forgotten how to cook using fancy kitchen gadgets like frying pans and colanders and knives.

Definitely try this at home; it's easy and refreshing and impresses husbands who have been living for weeks off of sake and sliced deli turkey.

Maya citrus salsa (xec) over fish
adapted [by which I mean copied pretty much verbatim] from here

1 pink grapefruit
1 orange
1 lemon
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro leaves
1/2-1 habanero pepper, seeded and minced [the recipe calls for 1/2 a pepper, but there was barely any heat, so I would use a whole one next time]
Salt to taste
oil for the pan
2 fish fillets, ~6 ounces each [the recipe calls for red snapper, which I couldn't find, so I used arctic char -- in no way similar to red snapper except that it swims in the sea, but completely delicious; I can't imagine a fish that wouldn't be good with this. And he calls for four fillets, but I only had two and used all the salsa; if you're cooking for four, double the xec]

1. Heat oven to 450 degrees. Cut orange in half horizontally and section it as you would a grapefruit; do this over a bowl to capture all its juice. Remove seeds and combine flesh and juice in bowl. Repeat with grapefruit and lemon. Stir in cilantro, habanero and salt.

2. Put oil in a nonstick or cast-iron skillet over medium high heat. Sear fish on each side then transfer to oven. Cook another 2 or 3 minutes until it's done to your liking [I cooked it medium rare; if you do use snapper, there are directions for cooking it with the original NYTimes recipe]. Serve fish with xec, immediately.