Ketchup and Pickles

Crazy kids that we are, we had after party at the Marriott's bar. I, of course, did not make this Angus burger. I was just fascinated by the way it appears LV decided to wipe ketchup all over the pickle--as though it might be more edible that way.

LV had no idea that a) there was ketchup all over his pickle or b) his burger was that rare.

There should be more pictures here from Sunday--the next morning--but I didn't take any pictures of the brunch we made. I didn't even think about pictures. I was more concerned with trying to keep pace with my Aunt Monika who can prepare food and wash dishes faster than anyone I've ever witnessed.

In Case of Rain...

Again, I have no idea what we had for dinner Thursday night. All I remember is assembling fans and finishing all the tabletop decor I had created Tuesday.

Our plan was always to have the fans that doubled as programs. We took a while to get around to actually printing, Xyron-ing, and folding them, but it was always the plan. The plan had never been to create a seating arrangement. Until I realized on my last day of work (Tuesday) that, if it rained, we would have more guests than seats.

Sitting at my desk with no response from the restaurant manager, I decided that we could turn our excess of reply cards into Metro cards and each table would be a stop along the N line, seeing as I used to live at one end while LV lived at the other.

I designed and printed the materials on Tuesday, ran around looking for rubber cement on Wednesday, and began pasting and cutting on Thursday. LV went to get Twin Tak during the day, then painstakingly assembled tabletops Thursday night.

Friday, after the manager received the check we left in person on Monday, she sent the following email:

"I seriously doubt many people are going to bother you with seating questions on Saturday. That is our job and we would answer that the seating is not assigned and to sit wherever they would be comfortable... If it rains (which it won't) it won't be crowded at all. I wouldn't even worry about that."

If she had told me this in person, I might have hit her. Not so much because she was patronizing and implying I had wasted my energy even dreaming up the plan to use the N line, but more because only an idiot would think that the guests at a wedding are going to ask the disinterested wait staff about seating before asking the bride or someone close to her. No, not "everyone" asked me what the name tags were for, but I certainly didn't see anyone approaching the bartender to ask, "What's the deal with seating?"

Treats

I have no idea what we had for dinner that night. All I remember is running around to so many different stores, trying to figure out what would be good to put into welcome baskets for my out of town guests. When I spotted all the single-serve items at CVS, like Fig Newtons and Oreos and Pop Tarts, I was elated. No, I didn't make the food, but I assembled all the bags with the food...

Chicken

The chicken in the refrigerator needed to be used up. I really, really didn't feel like cooking by the time we got home that night, but I still make rice and frozen vegetables to go with the sautéed chicken. Five days to go... We must have just been at work really, really late.

French Dip Sandwiches

We had the leftovers the very next day. The steak was took small for the rolls at the grocery store, so I bought oven roasted turkey breast lunch meat to fill them out.

LV, who hates mushy foods, actually dipped his sandwich. The sauce was that good.

Overnight Broil

Our grocery store put London Broil on sale. So, I bought a huge fatty hunk of steak. I had read in Esquire that the best meat was the cheap fatty cut, preferably with a bone.

Things were starting to get more and more hectic as it looked less and less likely that LV was going to be able to take off the days he wanted before the wedding. We were working late and there were places to go after work. The London broil sat in the meat drawer, and I kept worrying it would spoil.

Wednesday night, I think, I chopped up an onion and a bunch of grape tomatoes, rubbed the steak with seasoning and olive oil, and then stuck it all in a big Zip-lock bag to marinate.

Thursday night I had way too much to drink.

Friday I didn't make the steak for dinner. Still worried it might spoil, I ran around the house, looking for the issue of Equire that said how to prepare a fatty cut of steak. Was it March? Was it February? Was it under the coffee table? Was it at the office?

I finally found the issue (around 10 p.m.?) and read what I already knew--set the oven to 250 degrees, place steak in oven, go to bed. I thought my steak was too small for eight hours. I set the alarm for six. That still seemed too long, but maybe five would be too short.

At 5:30 a.m., I woke up, couldn't believe how good the house smelled, and went to rescue my steak. I didn't expect it to be swimming in a tar-like substance. I was sure I had ruined everything.

The directions said to let the steak sit in its own juices for the rest of the day, but I went ahead and immediately put the dish into the refrigerator. I'd figure out what to do with it all later.

"Later" was about about 5:30 p.m. at which time I decided to make some pasta and asparagus and hope the steak tasted good after it been reheated. LV assured me it really was good. The only complaints I heard from Scrappy was about the asparagus. Considering her steak was covered in a burnt crust of vegetables (I wasn't completely successful it scraping it off her portion), it's really a wonder that the asparagus is what was going to make her throw up. Not the asparagus stalks, mind you--the bushy part that "tastes like water."

One week away and little sanity left, I told her that if she threw up on the table, I'd make her clean it up. She finished all the asparagus, no reversals of fortune.

Pasta Salad

I don't even know what this is. Last week LV said I still had to post that salad I made with crab. Is this crab? I think it's chicken... But where did the chicken come from? What camera did I take this with? Eleven days to go...

Crunchy Chicken Strips

By special request, I turned the week's chicken into "Little Strips of Goodness." Forgetting that I run out of breading three-quarters of the way through, I started double-coating the first few pieces. So, as in December, there were some place strips. But that was fine--Scrappy wasn't about to complain about the lack of thyme on her chicken.

Stir Fry

Eighteen days to the wedding. I hadn't completely lost my mind yet, but I don't think I had any intention of making stir fry when I started this meal. The steak started in the pan, went to the broiler, and came back to the pan b/c it was was still so bloody coming out of the broiler. It looked good and I had some of the rare pieces, but I knew that wouldn't sit well with LV. Vegetables and rare meat? Never.

Breakfast, "Yum Salad," and Strawberry Cookies

Sausage patties used to be something we had all the time at the old apartment. We never have them anymore. One opened package has been sitting in the freezer since probably before I started this blog. (Which, to clarify, was sometime in December...)

So, sausage patties seemed like a fresh idea. And we always scramble eggs, so, weee, today was fried. One of these weekends we'll get back to making toad-in-a-hole. (Not the traditional English recipe--just the eggs and toast you see in V for Vendetta.)

Pizza was again requested for dinner, but we had finally shopped for the menu I made up like a month ago, so I refused to give in to a salad-less dinner. When I started saying there would be chicken and strawberries, the pizza discussion went away. Although, I can't say that all the work that LV put into shredding the chicken was somehow easier than putting a pizza in the oven.

Luckily Scrappy did not echo the "I hate lettuce" sentiments of her father. Her declaration that she likes lettuce was not just lip service either. She actually ate everything on her plate.

The strawberries and blueberries must have had her fooled. When I said that I had finally and thoroughly ended LV's streak of never having had a salad for a meal, she said this was not a salad. After reconsidering her plate, Scrappy said, "It's a yum salad."

These are strawberry cookies. When we were all done baking after dinner and I was scraping puffy pale cookies, I angrily stated I'm never making these cookies again. Even though the sugar cookie part comes out of a Betty Crocker mix and the jelly is now squeezable, they're just too much work for so little in return. The rolling part kills me. I can't get the wax paper to stay down, the roller absorbs everything, and it takes way too long to cut one tray's worth. Making cookies from a mix should be fun...

Before we started mixing anything, I decided I wanted to put some of the dough into the mini muffin tray and make my own sugar-cookie-and-jelly version of a Rese's peanut butter cup. They turned out well, though rolling was still involved. They're covered with the shapes cut out from the larger cookies.

LV will write a happier account of baking cookies that you can read here.

With two new sets of cookies, the corn muffins had to move...

Cookies, Muffins, Pasta Salad

On the Fourth of July, I felt like making nun's puffins again, but then thought I should make something to bring along to the BBQ later. Nun's puffs or muffins or biscuits didn't really feel appropriate. There were chocolate chips in the cabinet. The Tollhouse recipe seemed like more of a crowd-pleaser than the Better Homes & Gardens biscotti.

I forgot to take a picture... That's all that was left of my cookies after the fireworks. I'm still amazed.

Saturday morning I didn't feel like eating anything we had on hand for breakfast, so I made corn muffins. LV had long ago decided that corn muffins toasted with butter were the best breakfast, so we had two boxes of the super-cheap, super-easy Jiffy mix. I decided to make mini muffins to complicate the process.

After the muffins had cooled, they went into the container that the cookies had been in. This container had been filled to the top with cookies on the way to the BBQ.

Pizza has been the usual weekend dinner for a few too many weeks in a row. I thought we could do something healthier that didn't require the oven. Sure, the pasta still required a flame, but when all was said and done (and rinsed under lots of cold water), we had a good alternative to pizza in about the time it would have taken to prepare a pizza. Penne, peas, grape tomatoes (because we still have plenty of those around), cashews and crab (because the store didn't have frozen fully cooked shrimp) tossed with worcesterhire sauce, Italian seasoning and lots of olive oil.

1-2-3 Dinner

"I want to learn to make yellow rice," LV said. He had said it before. Being the third time, I finally assured him that someone probably makes a boxed version of yellow rice. Sure enough, Goya does.

When I told him I was just going to follow the directions on the back for chicken and rice, he said, "Green beans. We have to have it with green beans."

Twenty-five minutes later we had the best dinner ever. According to LV.