Welcome Australia, Malaysia and Zimbabwe.
My husband is enervating when he says that when I use a recipe or just make one up, third time is the charm. I’ll have to agree with him for yesterday’s Shepherd’s Pie, however. Mostly, I should have used an 8X8 Pyrex. I had beef in a bit of beef gravy that it absorbed in a second. Blanched green beans, and mashed potatoes on top with milk and butter and cheese. It was tasty, but thin. It’s my own recipe which I will work on for you, as my husband loved the flavors. Next time I’ll add some caramelized onions, crushed tomatoes and perhaps some corn.
Today a former employee (T) returns to our building. Story is he was replacing someone and staying at his place for a couple of days to get his feet wet. I gave the departing staffer a corn and chorizo custard as a going-away gift and the newbie, T, thinking J was gone, ate the rest of it. Whoops!
This morning I’m making T another corn/chorizo/mushroom custard to welcome him home. Now I’ll have three maintenance guys on my case! I just walk our old dog through the lobby to go out in our new snow and one of them says “what did you break today, Dee?” I call them about once or twice a year, like when my under-mount kitchen sink almost fell out below. Why? Because I am one of the few residents here who actually cook. Most order out or if they’re on expense accounts, eat at expensive restaurants.
Last night we had pre-prepared lamb kofta kebabs and I made fry bread for the grill as well. I have to work on that one. It’s from BBQU and just wasn’t the right texture. I haven’t made it for 8-9 years and when I did, it was at 6,500 ft. above sea level. Now we’re probably at 200′. Things change. In the mountains, I did learn to get an electric kettle for tea because water boils at a lower temperature and sometimes sipping herbal tea is like drinking dish water no matter the quality of the tea. The other major one was to make hard-cooked eggs. Eggs, cold water, bring to a boil and boil 12 minutes. Ice bath. Peel and put into your salade Nicoise. Week-old eggs are better for peeling than fresh.
Thank you for reading! It’s nearly six a.m. and I’m up doing this. My husband just let the dog out to see me. I’ll take her out then feed her at seven. The President’s secret service used to call the large briefcase he brought from the oval office to the residence, that contained nuclear launch codes, “the football.” My husband sends Zoe out after she awakens him, opens the door to give her to me and I say “I have the football.” He doesn’t even come out anymore, I just hear her nails on the floors and say it. After all, I am the disciplinarian and food wench. He’s the fun guy, but not when he’s sleeping.
Blurred Lines, I watched it on Netflix earlier this morning. It is about all facets of contemporary art from artists to dealers to auctioneers to collectors and museums. It is a world I will never enter but love MoMA and know what I like, which is personal and painted by a family member or a photo I took on a trip for Dad’s 70th birthday. I spend $25, not $95 million, to see a work of art.
There are no prices on contemporary art. A sheikh may come in and is offered the work for $5 million. I could show up, I’m a “keeper” if you witness my history with my two cats and two dogs over the past 29 years and they would quote me $10 million because they’d rather have a more public profile for the work. The film also showed me that people “flip” art like houses, buy it and sell it for twice the price in two weeks.
What is the value of art, when it has been relegated to the rich and famous because galleries want to say that this work was held by George Clooney. Granted, he didn’t walk into the gallery or Christie’s saying he wanted something blue in these diameters to go over his sofa. I do not know how one would ascertain the monetary value of art but most of what I saw were not what I would purchase and maintain. If I did have the money, I’d probably lend it to a museum for all to see.
At Buckingham Palace about ten years ago I went to an exhibit at The Queen’s Gallery. It included a self-portrait of Artemesia Gentilleschi, yes, a female artist of the Renaissance. It is a moving work that has probably been on palace walls for centuries. We, the public, were allowed to see it. It was in the back corner of the exhibit and I knew exactly where it was because women were standing around it. I joined them and we talked about Renaissance art. That is the value of art to me. The Queen may never again allow this work to be displayed, but I got to see it. What a treasure. Cheers! Dee