Crazy around here this time of year -- we don't get daylight until almost 7:30. Everyone else is still asleep, but I got the Sunday ritual under well. This sauce is going to simmer for eight hours. Even if we do have that Mass at 9 with the Cub Scout pack.
And what is a ritual anyway? Versus something that's just a good idea. On Monday we celebrated Columbus Day by driving to the Whole Foods on the east side of town. That's the second year in a row we did that -- using a day that Da Chimpz had school to indulge ourselves with pretentious food. It was fun. Got myself, among other things, a couple of small pumpkins.
We already hacked one to death. That was Friday night, where I cleaned it out, par-boiled the big shards, skinned it, then roasted it with nutmeg, butter, and some brown sugar. Nice.
Another ritual that's developing around here is group-viewing of YouTube videos. With the Apple TV the browsing and the video is all on the big screen. So we sit and watch videos (which explains why the boys walk around these days saying "This is Spartaaaa-aaagh!").
Yesterday we were watching clips about risotto. The dish made from short-grain rice (not the excellent album from Fluke). Cookie and I screened a few clips, and then we got to this guy.
First of all, I love the way this guy talks. Second, Cookie couldn't understand anything he said. Third, the first two things are very related.
So last night Cookie and I actually decided to make a risotto -- to go along with the pork chops and asparagus we would be having for dinner. Got everything lined up: the rice, the broth, the leftover pumpkin. It was quite the fire drill, if only because I was trying to get Cookie hands-on access to each step. Watching him chop the ends off the onion was nerve-wracking -- but all went well. By the end of what seemed an eternity we had a pumpkin risotto that neither Cookie nor Mojo liked very much. But I did -- had to cut myself off, because I would've eaten the stuff until I popped.
But that's what I do these days, now that I'm avoiding the gluten: latching onto anything that'll fill me up. (We bought a few of gluten-free products on Monday -- most of which were decidedly not delicious.)
I still like to walk around the house saying the word: ankylosing.