Although I ate a ton this weekend, I didn’t actually cook any of it. For real.
(So then why is my kitchen still a total disaster?)
It’s not that the kitchen sat empty – Mike used it. He made me a peanut butter pie.
A month or so ago I stumbled across this, and emailed a few people who I knew may be on birthday cake duty with the subject line: I want this for my birthday. And so he made it.
I know – first meat hand, now peanut butter pie. Will the romance ever end? Give me coffee in bed and peanut butter pie over roses and diamonds any day.
And it was delicious, even. Ringed with salted peanuts he crushed in the mortar & pestle and carefully topped with chocolate curls Sue (who flew in from BC) and I could hear him struggling with from the other room. This is all that was left this morning – my mom and dad bickered over how much had been left and how teeny a sliver each had had from the already miniscule leftover wedge.
My parents had a small roomful of some of my favourite people over to -what else?- eat. The theme was duct tape. (If you look closely, A -above- is wearing a duct tape portrait of John Cusack. That girl knows how to accessorize.) My mom and sisters made Guinness pie, and a sweet, sticky, clove-y roast ham my sister makes once in awhile, surrounded by quartered Bosc pears and cranberries that wind up roasting in the ham juices, and scalloped potatoes, and a big salad, and there was another salad of teeny multicoloured tomatoes that my 20 year old nephew made. And spiced pecans, nachos and guacamole and soft apricots and sage leaves wrapped in bacon and broiled.
And now, closing in on 11 again, buzzing on mini Wonderbars while fading fast, still having not caught up on sleep (it seems even the knowledge of a parent’s birthday does not prevent 5 year olds from waking up on Saturday mornings when it’s still dark – and in fact is further encouragement to be even more pokey-in-the-face than usual) I’m drawing a blank on what else to tell you about it all. And I’m determined not to start this week with a severe sleep deficit. So I’ll pull a To Be Continued. (Although we all know I’ll more than likely go off on some other tangent next time I’m here.)