Where My Whimsey Takes Me: Food, Cats and the Red Sox

Food for thought: last night, just before the steaks went on the grill, I thought to myself, "those are 'way too big for us to eat both of them." That being said, we ate one and a small piece of the other. This is what you do with leftover steak for another meal:

Create a sauce from mayonnaise, sour cream, Dijon mustard, capers, and salt and pepper.
Slice the cold steak thinly. Serve on a bed of lettuce with thinly sliced red onion rings, tomatoes and the sauce.

I concoct a new dessert. Although beaucoup recipes call for it, instant espresso powder is hard to come by. Medaglia d'Oro used to make it, but I haven't seen theirs in a store for a donkey's age. I buy it from King Arthur catalogue, but I ran out. Wanted to order at least a couple things to merit the postage. I make a South Beach Diet dessert from low-fat ricotta, cocoa, instant espresso powder, a tad of vanilla and 1 1/2 packets of Equal. It tastes good and doesn't induce guilt. But we are out of the espresso powder.

I toasted some sliced almonds, and added almond extract (just a little), low fat vanilla yogurt, to the low-fat ricotta. And the Equal. Mixed it up good in the mixer. Yum! This was a winner. The yogurt made it smooth and creamy. I like the Stonybrook Farm yogurt best.

These are some of my shabby little secrets.

I hauled an extra plastic bag of bird seed to the garage a couple days ago. Today, S.O. and I were on our way to Home Depot, and we wanted to find a galvanized bucket with a lid to store the birdseed in, and another one to dump ashes from the grill. Home Depot had no such animal. I can't understand why a galvanized pail with a lid isn't available everywhere, but so it goes.

When we got home, we found an old pail that would do for the ashes. I noticed some critter had already eaten a hole in the birdseed bag, and the floor of the garage was littered with sunflower seed hulls. The cats have been spending lots of time in the garage, even Thisbe, who parked herself in front of the firewood. So a critter had moved in and helped himself to the birdseed.

While I was looking for a container to dump the birdseed into, Thisbe took off Out of The Garage about 30 MPH, across the lawn to the neighbor's deck. This is unheard of. She never ventures off the porch. Whatever she was chasing, most likely a chipmunk, got away and she discovered she was not in the friendly confines of the front porch or the back deck or the garage. Panic. Tail becomes the size of a baseball bat. I walk over and talk her back to the garage, but she decides it's safer to come in the front door. Tail still huge and fur standing up. Horrors! What came over me? she seems to be saying. My god, what was I thinking of?

We are having a homebody kind of Labor Day. I go to Gerlach in a week and have stuff to do that I have been postponing at home. The icky kind of office work that you really don't ever feel like doing. Indefinitely postponed. Got to get it taken care of.

Last night I wrote the first three paragraphs of Bad Trip, and found the notes I had made about the incident at the Oakland Motel. They read: (desk clerk speaking to very attractive young lady) "He asked, 'what room is the chick with the weird name in?' He saw you check in."
The girl became panicky and checked out immediately and left in a big black car. Hmmm. So what was that all about? It will work in my story.

Now I am off to eat that cold steak and the leftover almond dessert. Life is good. The Red Sox rookie pitched a supremely memorable game last night, a no-hitter. Glad we were home. Glad we weren't watching a movie. Fun and exciting to see the triumph of such a nice young pitcher. Great baseball moment. What a thrill for the folks at Fenway Park.

Onward

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