28 April 2006

Cooking by Proxy: Feast: Easter Supper

It started with the usual intentions. Every Easter I put together a feast, whose focal point is something I've never made before. This year it was prime rib. I'd made roast beefs before...but there's something about a nice, juicy hunk of prime rib.

Well...we know what happened earlier this month....it kind of put a damper on my cooking plans all month. Oh well...not one to be put off by a thing so minor as the inability to stand without a goodly amount of assistance...I employed The Fussy Eater as my kitchen minion for Easter Supper.

Then it hit me. Within minutes of releasing this post I was hit with a horrid, horrid...something (I'm sure some are claiming it to be Beanie's revenge for making him wear the ears). I'm calling it a cold...others are calling it something else. Whatever it was (and still is), it knocked me out quite nicely. When my darling dearest arrived, I was bundled on the chesterfield, fading in and out of consciousness...knowing what sort of state I was in, he came bearing chocolates and Cepacol lozenges.

I'd simplified my menu after my tumble...I simplified it even more after I realized I had caught something. Prime rib from my favourite butcher, garlic mashie, peas, onion jus, horseradish and Dijon sauce and a gingery-jammy raisin bread pudding for a sweet.

My darling does cook--he makes a very nice pasta and a lovely lasagne...not to mention a very potent sherry trifle. He was nervous about entering my kitchen...I didn't know why, nor did I know what he was expecting...the knives are sharp, but they don't have minds of their own...and it's not as if it was a complicated menu....sigh...men...

The Fussy Eater was a very apt minion, he carried out the instructions wonderfully. Everything was nicely done and delicious. I'm trying to convince him for an encore performance...

I normally take a whole slew of photos for a Feast posting; quite honestly, the spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak. I had enough energy for two pictures and then ate some supper, nibbled on some pudding and then fell asleep.


Timmys count:

Before the nonsense: 44 cups; 3 free coffees, 1 free doughnut

Now: 43 cups, 7 free coffees


The Old Foodie said...

Hello Jasmine
Sounds like you need some therapy. How about this, from a little book called 'The widowes treasure', by Partridge (1639)

For the Cough
Take three figs and rost them, and put them in a cup of Beere, and a little Liquorice, and Aniseeds beaten, and let it stand by the fire till it be warme, then take out the figs and eat them, then drinke up the drink, and go to bed warme, and in foure nights it breaketh the Cough.

Could the Fussy Eater make that for you do you think?

Anonymous said...

Oh! I'm sending you lots of warm hugs to make you feel better. I too have spent most of the weekend huddled in the fetal position with the shivers and a queasy stomach.

But reading about your prime rib has revived me. It sounds juicy and luscious ... and the Fussy Eater could not possibly we sweeter!

jasmine said...

Hi OF!
Very interesting treatment. It reads related to an ayurvedic treatment I underwent a few years ago for my cough. Very effective. I did call my mum in India to bring some of the meds back with her--I'm allergic to all Western cough remedies, so I pretty much go the Ayurvedic route whenever possible.

Hi Ivonne
Sorry to read that you were feeling poorly (Just read your bran muffin post). I think it's our bodies telling us to stop being so busy...and yes, The Fussy Eater is incredibly sweet...I think I'll keep him :)