Grandiose Plans

It's the dishes that did me in. Clear by mid-afternoon that I'd not get everything done, so I didn't finish the pate. Saturday for sure as the chicken thighs are cooked. Besides, I forgot to get nuts, a fairly recent addition to the recipe that Gampp suggested, and not yet in my mental list of necessary ingredients, wasn't on the list, is now, since I forgot them. Pistachios add a wonderful bite. Baked the pie first, as the oven was heating up, and I could easily hold it at 350 degrees. Then outside into a beautiful, sunny, 50 degree day; split kindling, cut starter sticks, cut the 12 doubles into rounds, split six of them into 48 pieces. Inside, heated water, washed the first round of dishes, cleaned up myself and shaved, started heating more water, and started making the soup, let it cool then blenderized and added cream, back on to heat, baked the thighs in enchilada sauce. Cleaned up the kitchen again, and started drinking Wild Turkey. Productivity fell off. I took a walk out to my graveyard, a deer had been bedding in one of the kid's graves, a Blevins, marked with just a couple of field-stones, crude inscription on a flat face. Life was scrabble here then, 1880's, half the graveyard is infants and kids, then older people, everyone between left, manifest hoopla, life beyond the 100th meridian, where it was still a struggle, and then the whole thing went up in a cloud of dust. The soup is really good, a medium butternut squash peeled and cubed, cooked in two cans of chicken broth, with salt, pepper, garlic, allspice, then cooled and blenderized, then reheated with a half cup half-and-half and more freshly ground black pepper and about a dozen dashes of a good hot sauce. I have seconds, which is rare. I'd gotten thighs that were bone-in with skin, and fried the skins as a special treat, the thighs take the sauce better without skin; I slit the thighs on the bottom, where the bone is closest to the surface, cook them that side down, lifting them occasionally, so the sauce can penetrate. These are excellent, I have four left for the pate, I only ate two, with a caramelized onion, red pepper, asparagus thrown in at the last minute thing, a piece of bread to clean up, on my way to pie. In an amazing display of restraint I only eat one piece, but will definitely have a double slice for breakfast tomorrow. I love pie for breakfast. A thick crusted fruit pie with warm cream, Key Lime with whipped cream, even a piece of cheesecake. I say save breakfast for dinner except on weekends when it should be brunch. I'm pissed, late, that anyone would claim the Wrack Show, anyone could curate or produce, but the show is mine, that seems clear, this is just one reason I hate working with other people, their egos are so delicate. I probably should retire but they need me for another year or two. Poking sore spots. What they think they are saying.