You know how yesterday I complained that I screwed up everything I made?
What I forget, is that sometimes perfection doesn't matter. The comment I received on my lumpy gravy? "Lumps mean that you know it wasn't from a packet". And really, there were only tiny lumps and it will wasn't like I had flour chunks.
The overcooked meat? Bunny and I like our meat rare to medium rare - and I always aim to cook rare and let it rise to medium as it rests. My idea of overcooked is just perfect for a lot of people. (Except you crazies who like your beef well done. What the heck? Even when I was a vegetarian I had an issue with that!)
The stiff, lumpy potatoes? Even bad mashed potatoes are still amazing. And they'll reheat well when I make shepherd's pie later this week.
The yorkshires that stuck to the pan and had all the bottoms rip off? They were still lovely taste and texture wise, they just didn't have bottom crusts.
And oh the beets. I'm having a giant love affair with beets lately. They may be my current favourite root vegetable.
The guacomole I made (that oxidized a little)? The biggest hit ever. (In case you're wondering - it's a slight variation on Michael Smith's corn guacamole, and it's my favourite. I love how he creates recipes - many of my recipes started as his). And the fried pita wedges to eat the guac on? Those were HUGE hits.
I'd also be lying if I said I'm not crazy about my stuffed mushrooms because those were ridiculous good.
Today there's some more excitement in the kitchen, although a calm type of excitement.
I started my morning with two amazing lattes courtesy of the garage sale espresso machine (it may in fact be our most used appliance). Then Bunny made eggs and peameal and toast.
Now, I have to be honest, I am not a breakfast person. I have a very sensitive stomach, and I spend most of my morning feeling like I'm about to vomit - and eating in the first few hours I'm awake is a good way to guarantee that I will. The way my belly feels in the morning means that I am more particular than usual about what I eat. Can't handle runny egg yolks, for example.
And try though he might, Bunny is as impatient as I am about some things, and seems incapable of letting my eggs cook long enough to have a solid yolk. We've made a future agreement: egg whites only for my breakfast. It's how my mom used to do it because I'm just so damn particular. (Not my best trait).
Damn, though, that bacon was good.
The rest of the day is a low key excitement in the kitchen. I'm making cinnamon buns the lazy way - the bread machine is taking care of the dough right now.
After I toss them in the oven, Bun will be heading in there to grind up chicken and make dog food. (Seriously, this man feeds our dog fresh, home made food following the Biologically Appropriate Raw Food diet. Can you imagine how well our babies will eat one day?) When he's done that, we'll handle the last thing together.
Last weekend's fresh pasta was such a success that I've gone around all week thinking about this. It was amazing in a way I can't even explain. The noodles had this lovely meaty texture, and the feeling of kneading the dough myself was just so much fun.
This week Bunny and I are going to run with it, and make either ravioli or tortellini. Some stuffed with parmesan and butternut squash, some stuffed with ricotta and spinach to freeze. I am so excited it is crazy over this project.