Showing posts with label fruitcake cookies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fruitcake cookies. Show all posts

Friday, December 19, 2008

The Guests That Never Arrived


Due to the weather, our small dinner party was cancelled, and S.O. and I dined in isolated splendor at the long table with the Christmas cloth and the red napkins, and the little green vases with red and white chyrsanthemums and a few sprigs of cat-chewed baby's breath.


What is is about cats and baby's breath? They go absolutely apeshit.


I took my fruit cake cookies around to the neighbors. The recipe made 9 dozen. Hey, they're good, too. No icky yellow or green weird stuff, but rather my own candied orange peel. How cool is that?


Of course the baked goods disappear rather rapidly. I bake until the New Year, so it matters not if we eat stuff. What else is it for?


The menu was cannolli shells stuffed with spinach, chicken and cheese and baked in a light cream sauce, cherry tomatoes provencal, iceberg salad with special fancy homemade dressing, cheese straws for an appetizer, and then of course, all the desserts, now only two, including cheese cake. What is it with me and cheese? Life would be diminished without cheese.


Of course too busy to write this week. Next week will be worse. The tree is still undecorated and listing to port. The snow, however, is lovely.


More anon.


Grapeshot



Wednesday, December 17, 2008

I Can't Believe I Ate the Whole Thing


Never, ever, under any circumstances eat at The Cheesecake Factory right before trying on clothes at Nordstrom's. You will need a larger size, and the sight of yourself with three extra pounds of food will cause definite trauma and suicidal thoughts.

Ye Gods! So I bought jeans anyhow, and I hope they aren't too big tomorrow. I ate three chicken tacos and S.O. had basil pasta with chicken. The tacos came with beans, rice, salsa, and guacamole. Yum! The beans were pleasantly spicy and of course salsa and guacamole are to die for. It didn't seem like a lot, but then there was the bread, ooops, and the wine and I had to come home and take a nap in front of the food channel where I totally zoned out.

Thisbe, with a mournful meow, woke me up. "Where's my food, you slothful owner?"

Tomorrow I'm taking treats for a Christmas get-together. Mini-cheesecakes, cheese straws, spiced nuts and Martha Stewart's cranberry shortbread.

We didn't eat cheesecake at the Factory. We had a big cheese cake Thanksgiving, and I've got the mini-ones in the fridge for tomorrow. Topped with fresh cranberry sauce. The red looks so festive.

Tonight I whipped up a huge batch of raisins and other dried fruits for some fruitcake cookies. Recipe is from Bon Appetit and it looketh good. Nice and boozy with nuts and none of that citron or icky green stuff. Home made candied orange rind. Yowza! The recipe makes 9 dozen cookies, so I'm taking to some new neighbors, the folks next door, a kid in Chicago and my friend Diane. That still leaves a few dozen for the home front.

Poets and Writers has an interesting round table discussion between four literary agents. I'll query a couple of them. And now, well, off to bed, like any sane person. We watch the original Grinch tonight and the San Francisco ballet's Nutcracker. Definitely in a Christmas mood.

Remember, no trying on clothes after pigging out at The Cheesecake Factory. No one wants to see a blimp in the mirror or all those unsightly bulges. Is unsightly always the modifier for bulges? They're never beautiful or bountiful or breathtaking. Always unsightly. Yeah, they are.


Grapeshot