The perfect meal

Something unctuous and sexy, satisfying but not heavy, that's what I look for in the perfect Valentine's meal. After some thought I came up with a menu that I thought would be the perfect romantic dinner on Saturday evening. That was until The Guy reminded me that Valentine's Day is another Hallmark tradition we don't celebrate, like Mother's Day or our wedding anniversary. So I made it yesterday, put it on the table with a bottle of Malbec and no fanfare, but by the end we agreed that it was the most enjoyable meal we have had this year, or a long time into last, including our trip to Argentina. (There were better individual dishes in Buenos Aires, lots of them, but not a better meal). Of course our culinary memories could have failed us because we have subsisted on soup and the occasional pasta dish since Solstice, so real food was bound to be a success as long as it wasn't raw, burnt or I didn't confuse salt for sugar.


Beef en Daube
1 lb cubed beef chuck
1 tbl olive oil
3 cloves garlic, sliced (I used one huge clove of elephant garlic)
1 cup red wine (I used Malbec)
1 cup good beef broth or stock
1 14 oz can of tomatoes
1 tbl tomato paste
1 carrot, peeled, cut into chunks
1 stick celery, cut into chunks
1/2 onion, quartered
1 tbl Herbes de Provence
Bay leaf
Pinch of powdered cloves
1 strip orange peel
1 tsp capers

Method
Heat olive oil in a casserole. Add garlic and cook gently for 5 minutes. Remove garlic and set aside. Turn the heat up to medium-high and add beef, sprinkling it beef with salt and pepper. Cook until browned. Add the chopped vegetables, garlic wine, broth, tomatoes and tomato paste. Sprinkle over the herbs, spices. Bring to a boil. Turn the heat off, stir in capers, orange peel and bay leaf and place in a 300F oven for 2.5 hours. Take out of oven, adjust seasonings and if desired place in a lower temperature oven until ready to serve. It will be silky, the beef will have almost dissolved and the smell will be rich and full of promise.


Serve with bread or pasta or these baby Yukon potatoes, baked in the oven with butter, salt and rosemary. Mmm.


And for dessert, a variation on drunken fruit salad: red fruits steeped in St Germain liqueur with a couple of crunched sugar cubes. Hit the sugar cubes with the back of a spoon, sprinkle over the fruit, then pour over the elderflower eau de vie. That's the elegant way to do it. A lazier more sensual way is to allow the whole sugar cubes to soak up some of the alcohol and then suck the cubes.
So, for Valentine's Day, what do you think I should serve The Guy? Peanut Butter and Marmite sandwiches or just plain bread and butter?

Froggin' Winter Colds

I have a frog in my throat. I felt so good yesterday, cooked a damn fine meal, only had one bad coughing attack all day - I thought I was cured. Hah, little did I know this guy was waiting to ambush me at 1 AM


and his buddies are all hiding in the closet ready to jump out at a moment's notice.
Even if a feel like a wreck, at least I look better than The Guy who has a nasty case of conjunctivitis and should be wearing a patch so we don't have to look at (warning, not for the faint of heart, or stomach) this.
I'm absolutely, positively, completely done with winter and the viruses it brings. We've all had enough now. Move on.

My stimulus plan

Pay workers to dig trenches for power lines.

I could take a really good shot of the house's unique roof if it weren't for the damn wires blocking the view. If that's not bad enough, look at this photo of the electricity, cable and telephone (which we don't use because we have VOiP through the cable) wires going to the house. It's ugly and potentially dangerous. If a tree branch hits the wire and sparks an electrical fire we'd be re-naming this blog The Cool House Ashes. Think I exaggerate? This was actually my Welcome to America moment: driving to look at real estate eight years ago in a thunderstorm we were stopped at the main road into one village where a lightening strike had caused the electricity cable to catch fire, which melted the road surface and spread to connected houses. Yip, I felt safe.

My job creation scheme has the added benefits. Not only will it beautify America but we're less likely to suffer power outages - after all it's difficult for a falling branch to take out a power line if the cable is buried underground. It may also have a positive effect on the accident rate - fewer people running their cars into telephone poles. Potentially it could be wildlife-friendly, too - fewer fried squirrels falling off the lines. Infrastructure, public (and wildlife) safety, landscape improvement and jobs, that's a great stimulus package.

Dried Bull Penises Done Up In A Braid

I have to go see if they have Steer Pizzle at a Trader Joe's on Long Island.

Dreaming of Down Under

This Dwelling print (available on etsy) by 11 year old Sydney resident Moofus was commissioned for the Theme Attic feature in Dwell Magazine. I want to live in this eco-friendly modern house full of colour in the middle of an Australian summer. I'd also like to be as talented as this kid or his mom artist Kate Banazi. Check out her silkscreen prints, too.

Snow fun

This is the face of a dog that's spent too much time at home recently, a dog begging to be taken out somewhere interesting.


Somewhere she can run free, follow trails and be distracted by doggie scents


And maybe make a new friend.

Let's be positive

It's freezing again but at least the sun is shining today. And it finally stopped snowing. Small things...

Indisputable proof

More snow? More snow? MORE SNOW?


More snow.

Fantasy Shower

I'm having a very girly fantasy. My master bath will be full of swirls and swags, light and


etched shower doors by Antonio Lupi


one of a kind Lightshape lighted tiles from GranitiFiandre


chandelier-inspired tactile Feel tiles at Iris Ceramica

Never mind that it won't go with the rest of the house. Never mind that I wouldn't normally give this flowery style a passing glance. On a cold, dark day in the middle of winter I'm craving something rococo; pearls and ribbons, flowers and dancing slippers.

This is our life

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Without the horses. Cowboy hats and boots, however, have been worn on occasion.

Darning the Sofa

The sofa. Gorgeous pink 1968 sectional. Let's get in a little closer, shall we


The damage. This isn't the worst, I couldn't bring myself to show the internets the worst bits that I had to darn to keep the batting in place.




The culprits. Junior cats Maya (top) and Hermes. Butter wouldn't melt, right?

Resentment

A tip for The Guy: checking the garage door sensor to see if one of the wires has detached is preferable to telling me (when I'm already in bed) that we need a new garage door opener. It saves you from explaining how you had to open and close said garage door manually (yes, I do know that it's really heavy) and having me patiently explain to you (once more) how to see to the problem. Stating that you will see to it in the morning means you actually have to do just that. Failing to take care of it and LEAVING IT TO ME TO FIX AGAIN leads to wifely resentment. Just saying.
This also applies to the following: lights, alarms and strange noises

Reality Check Recipe

While searching the internets for a comfort-food recipe to cheer us up and warm us through I stumbled upon this gem from Nigella Lawson on NPR. Two pretty big differences there guys. Do you think it was a metric/US conversion problem or a good old-fashioned typo? Whatever, recipes are like Yahoo! Maps driving directions: you should always perform a reality check first.

Winter beach

Fleets Cove Beach before the snowstorm. Last week's snow has frozen on the sand and more is predicted for tonight. We're not even half-way through winter yet and I'm over it.

Gold Fever

I don't know about this Soffi Gold Fever Murano Glass waterfall faucet from Bongio. I can't decide if it reminds me more of an upside down retro table lamp or alibaba's turban. I am certain that if it were in our shower someone would hit with a shampoo bottle on day one and it would be raining Murano sprinkles and I don't think we'd be singing this song.
via trendir

Design Beliefs

We believe in rustic modernism: Big Sur, A-Frame beach houses, raw beams, and geodesic dome homes.

Me too

We sat on it too long

The fence that is. This one in the photo. Well, obviously we didn't actually sit on it as it would have collapsed much earlier, but we hummed and hawed and generally procrastinated over the benefits of a 4' over a 6' fence, cedar versus a sawdust composite, self-build or ready-made. We tried to make it last just one more season, one more year, a little longer, dragging out the inevitable as we always do until, THUD. Or at least a gentle thwack as one by one the uprights fell onto the snowy ground.
Oh custom-made cedar fence, you looked so sturdy back in the late spring sunshine. Now The Guy has been forced to prop you up with all manner of scraps of wood, fallen tree branches and the plastic lid from the beer cooler. Not really the warm, uniquely modern look we were going for but one we'll be forced to live with until winter comes to an end.

News from the Neighborhood

Are we getting new neighbors? Newsday is reporting that Brangelina will be renting this two-helipad pile, complete with fallout shelter, just across the bay. Not quite next door, but still in the same zip code. Maybe we'll bump into the celebrity duo at the local market this spring?
Seriously though, the place has been on the market for a couple of years at an asking price of $60,000,000. I'm guessing the exclusive prestige market has taken as much of a hit as the rest of the real estate around here and renting out is the only way the owners will be seeing any money from it in the foreseeable future.

Animal Tracks

Temperatures have soared into the 30s this morning, the biting wind has died down and my fluey cold has improved to the point where I can go a whole five minutes without coughing. In celebration I walked the dogs for the first time in a fortnight. We've still got several inches of snow and the lawn is almost pristine. Almost, except for this set of tracks that come through the hemlock trees and head towards the central rhododendron bed. They are about four inches long with a gap of two or three feet between. Raccoon, do you think? Huge hare? Sasquatch? I have no idea but whatever it was it left us a gift of scat.

Damn It. Cough... Sniffle...

One of the neighbours just returned the damn dog that had escaped through the damn fence. I had to answer the door, I did hesitate but The Guy had staggered in to work this morning and the good dog was barking. A lot. I wasn't dressed. I haven't got out of my pyjamas since last Wednesday apart from two runs to the pharmacy for drugs and the grocery store for homemade soup. Over the pjs I'm wearing a 10 year old, holey, worn out dressing gown because I spilt soup down the "good" dressing gown. I look as good as I feel.
The neighbor is a really nice, very put-together blonde who used to have a cool job with a popular music channel who wouldn't answer the door to the local police when her 2 year old had been playing with the telephone and mistakenly dialed 911 because she was pregnant with her second child and dressed in her scruffs. She looks like a supermodel.
I feel as good as I look.