Don’t know why I never noticed it before, but I realised something that I really like about this time of year: all those user manuals that I get to read. Sweet!
We went to a friend’s house on Sunday for some pre-Christmas cheer. Good times, good food, lots of wine, met new folks and others who I hadn’t seen in over a decade. Funny how these parties change over time; instead of starting after 10 on a Saturday night, it was more of a “drop in some time in the early afternoon this Sunday.” Right.
So, we go look at a loft that day (no one was there, wasted trip), drop by the SAQ and then head over. There were a few folks there, either leaving or just getting there, some with kids, some not, etc etc. At one point we’re thinking, damn, it must be late, we’ll never get to the grocery store at this hour. I look at my watch and realise it’s only just past 6. Yikes!
At one point, this couple appear along with their boys. I don’t pay them more than a cursory glance, as I don’t know them and I’m concentrating on my wine. One of the boys starts monkeying around with all the knick-knacks in the living room, so his mothers says “R, settle down.” R? Damn, the name sounds familiar. I ask the other boy’s name. When I hear it, I look at the mother and say, “Hey, you’re J! We went on a date once.” At which point, her husband looks at the milliner, and says the exact same thing.
That’s just really bizarre.
I made duck confit last week, but still haven’t gotten around to trying it out. After slow cooking the duck pieces over night, I pulled them out of the fat and, once cooled, poured the fat into plastic containers to use another time. (So hey, I’ve got a litre of pure duck fat in my freezer, if anyone wants some.) However, at the bottom of the pot was this thick layer of I don’t know what, a slightly jellied liquid. Stuck my finger in it, and it had that salty meaty goodness of duck and spiced salt. Poured that in another container and shoved it in the fridge.
So, last night, I chopped up and prepared rabbit (in mustard sauce) and decided to have grelot potatoes on the side. Boiled up the potatoes, cut them in half, put the duck jelly in a pan, fired it up and fried the ‘taters in it.
The potatoes absorbed the jelly, which sort of candied during the cooking, so that there was this meaty/salty crust around them. Sure, the rabbit was okay, the arugula was passable, but the milliner and I were completely concentrating on the potatoes. Better than poutine, I swear.
Guess I’m going to have to make more duck confit.
Ten years is so long, that back in 1995 the CBC was still broadcasting Montreal Canadians games, and the Habs weren’t playing the Maple Leafs. Oh, and this guy finally got to meet the Wizard.
I was doing crunches this morning, when the cat walks into the living room and goes, “hey look, hairless two-legged cat on the floor. I think I’ll go lie on his stomach.” Which she did. Crunch time over.
“And when the thunder breaks, It breaks for you and me. Tarantula. Tarantula.”
And, in this case, I have no idea what it means.