Home after 3 days away. Slipping back into my life like a warm bath of oatmeal.
I offered to bring Xopher home some dark chocolate coconut halva, then forgot to go back and pick it up when he said yeah. Oh well he said, they probably ship. I said, they probably sell it here. There’s really not a hell of a lot you can’t get here anymore, but I still always feel the urge to bring Xopher home some little souvenir.
Winter is just effing relentless. We are very bored. We drove, what, two, three hours yesterday just to be in a slightly different place. Wantastegok.
The meal we had at T. J. Buckley’s of Brattleboro was worth a drive even further than that. I do not think you can dine like this anywhere in the Burlington area. It’s a tiny place. “Located in a restored 1925 dining car,” you can peer over at the one-man-band making your meal. And I did – my scallop dish was so phenomenal, I kept looking over my shoulder, saying, “Really? Really?” As in, this came out of that one guy and that little room right there? Somehow if there were a closed door and an undisclosed number of people and gadgets, it would be more believable. Oh gosh, I’m hungry just remembering it. I kept getting notes of vanilla. If there was vanilla in it, they didn’t disclose.
Oh, understand that prices were through the roof, and justifiably so. I’m so glad we went, though.
At top is a “Long Pie Pumpkin.” The other is a Delicata. I only got a few Delicata this year, and that’s fine – they were really terrible. I don’t know why. They were so starchy. Meanwhile, first time trying this Long-Pie oddball, and baked the thing, and it was delicious. I always plant pumpkins in the manure pile in the goat pen, knowing I’m going to lose some to hungry goats, and this year was no exception. But there are a few that seem to be safely out of their reach. I picked a huge one today. They don’t seem eager to turn fully orange but that doesn’t seem to adversely affect the yumminess inside.
Everyday lunch: homegrown tomatoes sliced in half, drizzled with a bit of olive oil & balsamic and salt. Tear up a couple of homegrown basil leaves. Toast a piece of bread. Slice up an ounce of mozzarella. I had been throwing the mozzarella in the salad but decided I prefer it toasted on the bread. Enjoy… it’ll frost soon enough.
Haven’t posted in ages. No books or fiber projects have been completed in a while, but both efforts are on the cusp of victory. Food certainly marches on:
Mini Nitty Gritty corn muffins… a small bit of grapefruit hef… and experimenting with black bean soup in the Instapot Knockoff.
Follow-up: The soup was AWESOME! I had heard tell from Christopher Kimball of Milk Street, formerly of America’s Test Kitchen, publishers of the “The Best” series, that pressure cooking was really the best way to make beans. That man knows what he’s talking about. So creamy!