Cookbook Series – Part Deux
Mastering the Art of French Cooking is the cookbook du le semaine. The cote de poc sauce neuette was quite indulgent, and quite easy. The signature on the front cover of the cookbook is Susan Miller, the Prof’s Grandmother’s sister, apparently. Our son’s middle name is Miller.
As someone noted in a previous comment, older recipes can tend to be meat heavy – and also are way less healthy generally. I don’t mind the meat – I’ve been working with a dietician and leaning more heavily toward protein and away from carbs, and so lean meats are “green” foods (in small amounts) for me. But the cream and cheese and salt and lard are less laudable ingredients I find in almost every recipe in these old cookbooks, so I proceed with caution. Some of the horrible “salads” resemble nothing at all like a salad!
Jack went to Washington D.C. in late May on the eighth grade trip, followed by a lovely eighth grade graduation ceremony last week. Most of his pictures were selfies, generally too close to the face, that could have been taken anywhere at all.
The graduation was held in a stunning old Episcopal Church some blocks from the school – they are affiliated, but the school outgrew the church building years ago and had to be relocated a few blocks away, so I’ve never actually seen this church before. I spent an inordinate amount of money and time (over 1.5 hours!) on a haircut for Jack at a fancy salon, and I’d have done better to cut it myself. It’s a bushy, jaggedy mess – but we did our best to style it for graduation, and we will get it fixed soon. Traditionally at graduation the girls wear white dresses, and the boys wear suits or jackets. It is through shopping for this jacket that I have learned my son has inordinately long arms . . . he tried on fifty jackets before I found one that didn’t stop mid-forearm.
Jack’s buddy Paul (the half-Chinese boy in the pictures, tallest of any of them!) lost his older brother to an ocean riptide in the Costa del Sol last Thanksgiving – no body ever recovered. One of the more beautiful and difficult and reassuring sights I’ve ever seen is all the 8th graders gathered around Paul at his brother’s memorial service. The way they knew just to . . . be with him, be near him, follow his lead in what he wanted to talk about (or not talk at all). Their instinct for caring for him in his grief was wise beyond their years, and a powerful thing to witness. In any case, after the graduation, Paul’s mom texted me and told me he was wearing his brother’s suit. I haven’t slept well since she told me that. Brutal, beautiful. The suit was a little too small – I don’t know how Paul was able to sit down in it, and the pant cuffs stopped a full six inches above the tops of his shoes. He won’t ever be able to wear it again, I don’t reckon, but what a lovely happenstance that he could do so at this event. (James was his brother’s name, should you wish to whisper it in a prayer or thought sometime.)
Since then, the boys have been out of school. This weekend, the Prof and our middle boy are on a weeklong canoe trip. So it’s just me, the biggest, and the littlest. I decided that we needed to leave the house each day at least once – so I did some googling about stuff to do nearby, and eventually landed on two events. On Saturday, we drove to Mississippi to a small blueberry farm. We stripped just two bushes almost fully of their berries, and I’ve had to freeze half of them, we took home so many.
I’ve since made blueberry banana bread and a blueberry pie. We still have loads – I may make blueberry mojitos next.
Then today we went to the Van Gogh immersive experience. Worth every penny – the boys were so delightful and patient.
We walked to the grocery and bought some frozen pizzas and fruit and veg, and the boys continued to be adorable – high fiving when they agreed upon pizza types and ice cream flavors, chuckling in conspiratorial glee when they thought they snuck a box of Cocoa Puffs past my watchful eye. They brought all the groceries in when we got home and have spent the hours since holed up in Jack’s room upstairs, playing video games together. Really, the cutest.