I’m home, guys. In my own bed and kitchen. I have lots to tell, but I’ve taken to working on other stories in bed, and so wind up feeling like I’ve written a post here when I’ve actually been completely slacking in that regard. From now on I’ll relegate work to my desk (or couch/front step/coffee shop) and be more selective about who I bring to bed.
In my three-day absence I learned of some fast food trips (those five year olds are talkers) and that W’s new favourite dinner is something called egg hot dog, in which two poached eggs are served up drippily on a leftover hot dog bun from the Big Birthday Party, presumably because there’s no other bread in the house. (There was, however, plenty of fresh spinach, kale and chard that remained untouched. And wait till you see the garden.) I think I should instigate Mike Mondays, and make him cook. What do you think?
Some rummaging around this morning produced a couple scones from the freezer and upon doing inventory of the fridge (I’ve only been home about a day and a half since we cleaned out the fridge and left for Tofino) I came upon a jar of this rhubarb-ginger jam I made when it did not seem possible that the counterload of rhubarb would in any way squeeze into the freezer. And I’m pretty good at Tetris.
I won’t even pretend to write out an elaborate recipe for this – all I did was chop and cook it down, with a thumb-sized piece of ginger lazily sliced in and then plucked out afterward – you could grate it instead, and cook it down with the rhubarb.