13 December 2003 - 2:46 p.m.
During last night's round of Dirty Santa, I stole and lost a mini-bottle of Moet & Chandon, uncovered and ceded (happily) a Smoking Donkey, opened and surrendered a sleek little digital desk clock, and finally stole and kept a combination spoon-fork-knife-corkscrew camping tool - which I'll probably keep in my glove compartment or paintbox, for those all-too-frequent times when I forget to pack eating utensils with my lunch). When I left the party, the majority of my fellow guests were gathered around the Drinking Bird. . .
For lunch, I made a broccoli-swiss omelet and spicy tomato-rosemary soup.
The omelet: chop half a stalk of broccoli into small bits. Microwave for two minutes. Scramble three eggs with milk. Pour egg-milk mixture into frying pan coated with oil; after it sets, sprinkle grated cheese and broccoli bits over the surface. When it looks solid enough to fold over on itself, give it a try. (Ignore spouse laughing at lack of finesse in doing so - these things take practice.) Divide in half and serve on heated plates. (Accept spouse's compliment on how good it tastes.)
The soup: defrost container of turkey broth (approximately three cups) in microwave - just enough to be able to dump it into a pot. Give frozen tomatoes (approximately three cups' worth) same treatment. Mince approximately three tablespoons of fresh rosemary, add to pot. Shake in some red pepper flakes. Simmer until hot. Ladle the still solid-chunks into food processor, puree, pour back into pot. Serve to self and spouse. Spouse suggests, "It'd be better if you had peeled the onions first." Reply (brow somewhat furrowed - I did strain it. . .) that if there's any onion peel still in the mix it's from when stock was first made. After some back-and-forth, ascertain that spouse meant I should have peeled the tomatoes first. Point out to spouse that I might have done so if the tomatoes had been fresh, but not going to bother messing with frozen. Spouse advises they would be easy to peel if I let them thaw first. I roll my eyes and remind him that I didn't want to spend a lot of time on preparation. Spouse grins and says it's pretty good anyway.
And now that we are both fed, the BYM has gone a-walking with the dog. Me, I need to get started on the pate brisee for an onion tart, and then letter a batch of cards.
One year ago, I read an article about Darwin which noted that "His genius really was an infinite capacity for taking pains."
(Yeah, I know there's an irony to my quoting that given the tomatoes, but I've also lettered the same thirteen-line poem six times this week. . . 'til by turning, turning we come round right.)
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