Finishing it off

What's one of the best parts of a holiday meal? Dessert. Each year I try out something different.


Pumpkin Ginger Cheesecake Pie.

I did not have this yesterday. Instead this is the one that I took into work on Wednesday. My boss let me leave early on the condition that the pie would stay behind. Because if I like where I'm working, I will bring in food. Perhaps I should have put that on my resume. I probably could have gotten a job a lot faster.

My plan was to make another one for at home but I was too tired on Wednesday to cook. And I had so many other things to do on Thursday -- the roast, the dressing, the sweet potatoes, the beans. So I figure that I'll make it sometime in the next few days. And now I have enough to make two more. And I know how in the past I said that I am willing to share food. But I'm not sharing this when it's done. It's all mine.

Hope all of y'all who actually like to go out in the crowds had a good day shopping. Me? I stayed in to enjoy leftovers while relaxing at home. Well, after I headed out and made a couple of deliveries of leftovers. Well, one delivery and one attempt. The attempted one will be completed on Sunday after I get back from taking a package to my dad and stepmother tomorrow in Sack of Tomatoes.

The main event

This year has been all about doing things a little differently. For one thing, I was kind of tired of the turkey thing. I was planning on trying a duck recipe until I read the reviews on the recipe. So I went for my second choice.


Pork roast with cornbread-poblano stuffing.


And I always have to have some kind of green beans. These are indeed with pine nuts.


And sweet potatoes. But this year I went for a roasted recipe.


Who says that you can't have cranberries if you aren't having turkey?

And I really love cranberries, so I opened that jar of relish that someone gave me long ago as well.

The roast was supposed to be a crown roast but after Frenching it, I just wasn't in the mood for all the other work. The sweet potatoes (OK. So I really used garnet yams.) were surprisingly wonderful. I would have never thought to combine all of those flavors in one dish. Overall, it was a rather satisfying meal. And now, I'm going to take a nap. And then read some more of my book.

Starting things off

... or how I begin to torture y'all for a few days.



Years ago when I decided that I had forgotten who I really was, I made one important decision. That I would start making my own traditions and would stop letting others dictate what I should be doing. The easiest of these was Thanksgiving.

When I was in college, I never came home for Thanksgiving. It seemed silly to pay for a plane ticket for a long weekend when I'd be going home in a couple of weeks for the much longer winter break. Besides by then, my mother was never home for Thanksgiving. And things were still pretty strained between me and my dad. I also argued that in the relative quiet around campus, it was easy to get a jump on studying for finals. By my junior year, I had started cooking the traditional meal for myself.

By the time that I returned to California after deciding to leave law school, I had spent at least six Thanksgivings completely on my own. Things were better with my dad and so each year he insisted that I show up. After a couple of years, I got tired of spending three to four hours on the road though. Because although things are now better between me and my dad, I am not particularly fond of my stepmother's family. Now I only go up for Christmas. But even when I was doing the drive, I began to miss having leftovers at home. I mean that is the best part of the holiday, in my opinion.

So I started cooking again. And by this time, I had acquired quite a few cookbooks and cooking magazines. Cranberry sauce from the can? Nope. I should make my own. Turkey? Nah, let's try a duck recipe. Makes much more sense for one person than a big ole turkey. And besides, I also get the opportunity to partake of one of my favorite pastimes -- list-making.

Now I spend the day at home alone. And I like it that way. I cook loads of food. I read some books. (And if I don't already have enough books around, I have been compiling yet another list of more stuff that I would like to read via Project Gutenberg.) Maybe knit a little. All in all, it is a stress-free day of relaxation for me. (Yes, cooking is relaxing.) And so this year, I decided to take the whole menu concept a little further. This year there will be appetizers and a soup course.


Blue Cheese and Carmelized Onion Squares.


Baked Oysters with Bacon and Leeks.


Pumpkin and Shrimp Bisque.

I made up the squares on Monday because I figured that they would keep fine. They did. Last night I made a small amount of the oysters to make sure they were as tasty as I thought they would be. I also made the soup but only cooked enough of the shrimp for tasting/photographic purposes. I liked all three but I think the oysters were my favorite. Probably because they contain two of my absolute favorite ingredients -- bacon and cheese.

Tonight will be work on side dishes, marinating meat, and dessert. Because there is always dessert.

And now another part of my tradition is that my aunt usually helps me to consume some of the leftovers on Friday. I know that this is something that I will continue to do for years to come. And maybe one day I'll get wild and crazy and stop being such a hermit and actually invite other folks over. But we don't want to get too crazy there. But if some of y'all are hungry and in the area over the weekend, let me know. I'll probably have some leftovers for you as well.

Cannibalistic tendencies

As y'all know, I am a Cancer. Symbol? The crab. Friends have made jokes about how I love to eat crab -- eating my own kind and all that. But crabs do eat their own so I guess I fit right in.


Surf and turf.

Things started innocently on Saturday. I took a steak out of the freezer to defrost because I really wanted beef and hadn't had any in quite some time. I probably would have been just as happy with spinach. Because I learned long ago that when I crave beef, what I'm really looking for is iron. Because I can get a wee bit anemic at times. And when I have beef, it has to be bloody.

So while the steak defrosted, I headed out to do laundry (Yes, there is a single machine in my building but I had let things build up to the point that I suddenly discovered that I had four loads of laundry to do. And try fighting it out for that single machine when there are eleven other apartments.) and to do a little grocery shopping.

95% of the time, I shop with a list. I am not allowed to stray from the list unless I suddenly remember a very necessary item, such as toilet paper, that I have forgotten to put on the list. This is what allows me to go shopping when I'm hungry. Usually. The problem was that I needed to pick up some shrimp. And there they were. King crab legs on display, calling to me. So I just had to give in. My only other impulse buy was some Coke so that I could have a cuba libre with my meal. Because that's the only time when I drink Coke. If you give me a 12-ounce can of soda on its own, it usually takes me at least four hours to finish it. I think this stems from the fact that sodas were only available as occasional treats when I was growing up. I drank loads of milk, fruit juice, and water. And tea. When I was nine, I was allowed to add tea to the list of acceptable beverages.

And no, I did not eat all that meat in one sitting. I ate about a third of the steak and half of the claw. Until I went to put the leftover steak away. Then the claw beckoned once more and I finished it off.

All I could think about on Sunday was more crab. Luckily I was meeting a friend for brunch at Crepevine. (Can someone explain to me how their menu is so similar to that at Savor?)


And so I ordered the New Orleans.

But I still wanted more crab. And I needed to stop at the store for some fresh oregano. (The two other stores I had already visited over the weekend were out.) And I knew that there would be more King crab available. Alas, they only had clusters and I really did not want that much. Just a leg or two. And so I passed.

But I'm starting to think that Zoomie has created a monster. As I entered the store on Sunday, I thought of calling this post Bride of Frankenstein -- especially since some mornings, I can have really scary bed hair. But then I was thankful. Because now I don't miss the delay in the start of Dungeness season quite as much.

Oh, and I apologized to Boris when I got home last night. Because he was just being a silly boy cat and really didn't know any better. While I sat at work yesterday, I realized that with my angry shouting that I had scared the bejeezus out of both cats. So there were lots of hugs. And new toys brought out of the cabinet. (I always keep a secret stash of toys for them. Never know when I might want to treat them with something new.) And we tried to bond again. Because I also realized that Boris is probably just a bit confused. He had gotten used to my being around all day and now I'm gone again for hours on end. And then I get home and I'm too tired to really spend time with them. He was just a little kid acting out.

Settling in

... or what I've been doing when not at work.

About a month or so ago, I finally came to the realization that I was "at home." As I have stated previously, I have always had a bit of wanderlust but now? Now I really feel like putting down some roots. That means making some changes at home. So I did some research online and I made a list. Because when it comes to major changes, I always make a list. And then I started carrying my planner again. Because I need to assign tasks to each day. And make more lists.

I think I was inspired by two things. The first was returning to work. When you have all day at home, it's easy to notice the lack of organization but not be too worried about it. After all, you have all the time in the world to look for things when you're in that situation. By the end of my first week of work, I was almost depressed to return home. Everything at work was so organized. Why wasn't it so at home?

Then there were the parties. My first two weekends after starting work, I ended up at parties in my neighbors' places. Nothing is more depressing than to see an apartment that is basically the same as yours (I say "basically" because this is the Winchester Mystery House of a building and no two apartments are exactly the same in their features.) but seem to look a lot better.

Those two apartments? Well, they probably looked good due the age of the occupants. They were rather minimalist in decor. I remember being in my 20s and not owning quite so much stuff. Life was a bit easier then. Well, at least in terms of storing things at home. And the two apartments I've seen on my floor? Obviously inhabited by grown-ups. With taste. Bottom line is that I'd love to invite the neighbors over but I am ashamed of my home.


But all of this came later in the thought process. It all started with a need for a new dish drain. The old one was wooden and was starting to turn a strange shade of green around the legs. Ewwww!



Then I realized that I had been having a hard time finding stuff in some of the cabinets. But since I'm renting, I didn't want to install anything permanently.


And then there was the fact that the coat closet has never had a shelf. There has always been framing for a shelf, but no shelf itself. I was thinking plywood but then I talked to my dad. He told me that I needed a 1x12. Luckily the fine folks at Home Depot will saw that board to the length that you want. I must admit that once it was cut I did freak out a bit though. I mean, I had only measured once. Look at all that lovely space just begging for stuff.


I like to keep my shoes in boxes. Unfortunately after a number of moves, many of the boxes had seen better days. The answer was plastic shoeboxes. I can't say enough how much I love them.


I've also preferred to keep bulky sweaters on the closet shelf, as well as a few other things. (Don't even get me started on the topic of sweaters on hangers. Bottom line is that my mother knows that I will rarely purchase a sweater in a store if it is on a hanger.) The problem is that the stack starts to look a little sloppy over time.


And I've always had lots of stuff in boxes. It helps me to stay nomadic. It's a mixture of books and craft stuff mostly. (Yes, with four six-foot bookcases, a four-foot bookcase, and another three-foot bookcase in the kitchen, I do not have enough shelf space for all of my books. And no, I am not getting rid of any of my books anytime soon, Mother.) The problem was that some of the boxes were starting to collapse, creating quite the hazard in the closet. Yes, I realize that I have a weird closet. Hibiscus, owner of Dumb and Dumber, (Yes, I finally came up with a name for her.) says that I'm in one of those weird buildings in which they were trying to make architectural changes but the ideas ended up being a mishmash that didn't take practical form until after WWII. (My building was built in the 1920s.) So I have a closet that is entered via a single door but then stretches for a length of ten feet or so. And Boris approves of the shelving. He now has access to the overhead shelf in the closet where I store my luggage. (I would have taken a photo but I was too busy trying to get stuff done. Just like I should have taken a photo of him standing on the top of the open closet door.)

So now that I have finished Phase I, I am ready to start saving for Phase II -- the one involving new furniture in the living room. The LPs must be protected from the cats. And the futon must go. Because I'm here to stay for some time.

Oh, and does anyone want a cat? Because it may be time for Boris to leave. Last night as I was dozing off, I heard a strange noise. I got up to discover Boris hanging from the Roman shade I had put up a few months ago. Apparently he had been there some time because I arrived in time to see him and the shade coming off the wall. And for a brief moment, I felt homicidal. And so now I am debating about finding Boris a new home. I'm not sure if I can take his destructive tendencies anymore. I was at my wit's end and just started to cry while shouting at him to go away. He kept following me. But then I was up so I got a cigarette. And the rage subsided. For now. He's just not helping in the home beautification department. I know there's that plug in stuff you can get. Do any of y'all think it will help him? Because we need some severe behavior modification around here. The place right now just isn't big enough for the two of us.