I already had way plenty of food on hand or being brought by guests for this little soirée, but I got the impulse to do a pasta salad.
I had the asparagus on hand, about two pounds of it.
I boiled a pound of whole wheat rotini for 13 minutes and chilled with ice water;
blanched the asparagus for three minutes (until it turns bright, but don't cook it until it gets soft!) and treated it to the same icewater bath to arrest cooking.
While those were both soaking in ice water, I tried a few dressing combinations. I was going to do one based on Newman's Southwest dressing, but it seemed to fight the Feta crumbles.
Cut the asparagus into two-inch sections and toss with the pasta, adding:
1/2 cup dried bell pepper flakes
1/2 jar Classico pesto
1 can black olives, drained
6 oz. Feta crumbles
1/2 cup (or so) Italian salad dressing (I used Ken's Steakhouse brand, but whatever)
1/2 cup (or so) parmesan
1 tin minced anchovies
1 diced tomato
Salt & Black Pepper to taste
I still feel like it needs more of a tang to it, but I don't know what to add for sure at this point. I think maybe I just got some bland Feta, it doesn't seem to have the bite I expected. Or maybe if I had some bleu cheese crumbles to add, too. It doesn't taste bad, it's just missing something.
At least it's pretty. Only one or two people besides myself ate any of it: it seems asparagus and black olives are not popular in my family. And it was agreed that the Feta lacked bite.
I also tapped a couple of homebrews. My Ugly American Stout is exactly what I had in mind: very nearly a clone of Sierra Nevada Stout. Stouts don't typically have hop flavor and aroma, just hop bitterness to go with the roasty and malty flavors of the grain. But Sierra Nevada dry hops everything, and their stout is no exception. It's maybe the most aggressive beer I've ever tasted outside of an unblended Gueuze by Cantillon I had at the American Homebrewers Conference in 2001.
My Dad had my cider, which is regrettably still quite cloudy and not yet fully carbonated.
I think I finally found the target on my burgers. I used 96/4, the leanest ground beef I could find, and measured 2/3 cup patties. This worked out to about 6 oz per patty, which I formed in the patty maker and then spread with the rolling pin. They covered a 'jumbo' bun after cooking down, and weren't too thick to make a well balanced sandwich.
Maybe these burgers are excessive, but what could be more American than an excessive hamburger?
So after dinner, of course we launched rockets at the Purple Park. Mo did got her sidewalk chalk thing on, and Em overcame her fear of fireworks once and for all. The night before she'd been petrified of the punk and the idea of lighting any fuse at all. But given a cousin to enjoy a few smoke bombs with, she was soon lighting multiple smoke bombs to get combinations of color and jumping the smoke trail.
Then we headed to the Gardner display. Which, in my never to be humble opinion, starts too early. My ex tells me Edgerton started at most ten minutes later, that it's the lower level of light pollution that made it seem darker in Edgerton Thursday night.
But when the Gardner display was over it was just then getting to where the sky was dark. I don't understand why not start a half hour later.
Not that it ruined my enjoyment, or, obviously, the enjoyment of my kiddos. After every report, Mo called out, 'It's Major Bedhead!' It's a character from The Big Comfy Couch. If I didn't figure I'd overdosed on fireworks video Thursday, I could easily post a video with a soundtrack that goes BOOM! It's Major Bedhead! BOOM! It's Major Bedhead! BOOM! It's Major Bedhead! BOOM! It's Major Bedhead! Ad infinitum.
But I did get a few stills of the fireworks that weren't entirely pitiful for a pocket camera and no tripod. F/8 and exposures of two seconds and more.
No comments:
Post a Comment