I think it takes a drought to fully appreciate a fabulously dark, chilly, rainy weekend like this has been. Oooh, so cozy, truly. I’ve made brunch twice – TWICE! – for John and me (I hardly ever make brunch). Yesterday I made little pizzas, topped with a bit of bacon, fresh rosemary, fresh tomato, garlic, onion, a drizzle of olive oil, and a sprinkle of mozzarella and freshly ground pepper. Totally hit the spot, next to an over-easy egg (yes!), especially followed by a whole-afternoon’s plant in front of the fireplace. My God we were slugs, listening to music and reading all damn day…I’m reading Julia Child’s memoir of her food-formative years, My Life in France, which as you might imagine, I’m enjoying immensely. I keep the famous Mastering the Art of French Cooking – her masterpiece cookbook – at my side for cross-referencing as she describes the hilarious and painstaking (!) detail she put into years and years of hard work, translating such French classics as decadent beurre blanc, perfectly roasted chicken, and a true, French baguette, for American cooks.
In fact, Julia inspired today’s brunch of pan-sauteed sole filets (her descriptions of sole meuniere would make anyone crave a little buttery fish, rarrr…), finished with a bit of browned lemon-tarragon-butter from the saute pan. Alongside arugula tossed with (more) lemon juice and olive oil, it was lovely. And you know, I was ready for a warm meal after venturing out into the drizzle this morning to cheer my sister Stacey on as she completed a sprint-course triathlon near Lake Phalen. Yay, Stacey! Yeah, nothing like watching someone else work their ass off to work up your own hearty appetite…
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