All the good food in and out, an expression and a story
/It is exceedingly chilly here. Stop it winter. You are pushing my buttons and making me tired. My grandmother -Nanny the great for those who don't yet know of her- had two older sisters, one of whom, Aunt Da, used to say of folks who irritated her, "(S)He makes me tired."
This was always my favorite of her expressions because it says so much in so few words. I mean, wouldn't you get me exactly if I said, "Suzanne Somers makes me tired." You would know clearly that I'm not thigh-mastering or wearing a shiny leotard that somehow doesn't go up my bum even though it is SO high-cut. No, you would understand that I am totally over Suzanne Somers and her charlatan claims about pretty much everything.
She makes me tired. So does Kim Kardashian, Kim Kardashian's ass, Ted Cruz and this infernal winter.
What to do in this case? Eat well and ignore Kim, Ted and Cold as best as possible.
Last night, before I awoke at 3am upon hearing Jack enter Oliver's room and wake him up to ask if he wanted to play Legos (to his credit, Oliver said, "NO Jack, go away. I am sleeping!" And then I took J downstairs for a lemonade date and ultimately we fell asleep together in his bed listening to a child's meditation CD which put me out like a light.), I cooked such a good meal.
Despite the utterly sub-par picture, this Aleppo pepper and yogurt chicken with lemons is to.die.for. These are kebabs at their very best.
To go alongside, I made a quinoa salad with apricots, lime, pistachios and mirin.
Tonight, tired after my early morning escapade with sweet J, Mom and I went on a date to Macon Bistro over in Chevy Chase DC. You might remember my first trip there, last August with Tom. This place is such a great addition to the DC restaurant scene. I just love it.
And it didn't disappoint this evening. Again, we perched at the bar and of course I started with the biscuits, honey butter and pepper jelly. Mom got the chicken liver mousse which is completely not my bag but does prompt another good story which I simply must, as an aside, share with you now.
Mom has always loved liver. I, on the other hand, have always found organ meats positively repulsive. Liver is so thin and not a good color. Anyway, when I was about eight, Mom made liver and onions for dinner. She instructed Dad NOT to tell my sister and me what we were to eat.
As the story goes, I looked skeptically at the slab of liver and asked, "What kind of meat is this?" Mom said "Steak!!" with unnatural enthusiasm, and I cut a small bite. After chewing it maybe three times, I said, "Well let me tell you, there is something wrong with this steak!" At that point, Dad said, "IT'S LIVER, IT'S LIVER!" because he doesn't like it either. So we were all saved except for Mom who got to eat as much nasty liver as she wanted.
Tonight's chicken liver mousse was dressed with a liberal garnish of relish (a horrid concoction) and did ruin the mousse for Mom. Otherwise, dinner was great.
Look at my johnny cakes with deviled crab and fried capers!
Check out this spicy kale with fried grits and onions!
Mom's halibut with orange, chiles and greens was marvelous!
And now I am zonko tired and going to bed. Buona notte!
