Martha Stewart I Am Not
Note: It's Friday today, so a humorous piece today. Any readers from France or other countries where this will make me look like a particular moron can direct flames to my normal email address.
Last night I made dinner for a few friends and it is utterly clear to me that:
- Martha Stewart I Am Not
- Martha's Spirit is Still Punishing Me for This (a Daypop favorite at the time if I remember)
But let me confess my offenses so that another, clue free geek type doesn't suffer from this -- although its unlikely I'll admit. Anyway ...
So here was the menu:
- Olives, Bagette, Olive Oil and a nice spreadable cheese from the cheese counter -- not "Cheese in a Can" -- for before dinner
- Two bottles of nice red wine -- a Pinot and a Chianti
- Baby field greens salad drizzled with a good olive oil, balsamic vinegar with fresh tomatoes and buffalo mozarella on the side (also drizzled with same)
- Home made garlic bread
- Veal Marsala made from scratch with high quality fresh mushrooms
- Capellini pasta
- Molten Chocolate Decadence(1) topped with Breyers Vanilla Ice Cream (make this post dinner since it has to be fresh and molten for best effect)
So now that I've blogged the menu and links to the recipes, this is my easy route back to it for the next time I entertain. Now for the confession ...
I've been cooking and baking for years -- and I can even set a table so that wasn't the issue. And it wasn't the typical bachelor male thing of "Huh... You mean I can't serve a formal meal on paper plates?". So I did the whole Bread & Circus thing, a shi-shi organic market in the Boston area, battled suburban house wives for a parking spot, fought tooth and nail for the last bottle of the right olive oil and then made the pilgrimage to the wine store. Before the guests arrived, I did the prep work -- chopping, cleaning, mixing, etc. All of that went fine. Kitchen looked like the proverbial bomb hit it but that's also normal. Then the guests arrive. And the trouble began. And its not what you think. Here was the repartee leading up to it.
"Hi"
"Hi"
(Pleasantries)
"Where's the wine?"
"Where it should be -- in the fridge chilling"
(a minor scuffle of words ensued which basically amounted to "Scott, Dude, you're a moron")
Now I'm not much of a drinker -- just never picked up the taste for it. And I drink virtually everything cold; icy if possible. It' just what I do. And I know that you chill white wine before serving, I know that. Pinot Noir and Chianti are NOT white. And while the inference can be made that "if you chill white wine, you chill red wine". That is not the case. Repeat:
Note to Self: You do NOT chill red wine.
Now even worse I had put the red wine into the freezer. Remember the icy reference? And while one person theorized that the wine was ruined and we should purchase new, I can personally attest to the fact that if you take chilled red wine(2) and submerge it in a bath tub of hot water, it not only returns to the correct temperature but it is fine. Both bottles were consumed in full.
I said I was not Martha. Apparently I can't even channel Martha when I want to.
However the food was wonderful and the meal was a big success.
Footnotes
(1) I know they use another name for it but that name feels just too plebian for such an outstandingly great desert.
(2) Thank heavens the bottles were still corked.
When:
8:06:45 AM |
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