Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Nothing is spookier than having to spend the rest of your life with someone

While I'm not one to watch wedding videos and feel any sort of feelings, the following is a Must View.

Okay. Everything I just said is complete bullshit aside from the part about the following being a Must View.

Sometimes, I even stalk Facebook, trolling for wedding videos and montages to watch. I have wept over the vows of total strangers. Love overwhelms me like a really horrific case of chlamydia.

You could skip some or all of it EXCEPT for seconds 15-65.

If you do not find yourself a little breathless and welling up with tears at the 55th second, you are not human.

We should all be so lucky as to find a love that renders us so eager for one another. May they bicker about the irrelevant and fuss at one another over the frivolous for the rest of their lives. Cheers to LOVE.

Thursday, October 4, 2012

In the very best of company

Although no company will be joining us for dinner tomorrow night, I've elected to re-visit Ina Garten's Company Pot Roast. And as I put the period at the end of that sentence, it is dawning on my tired and sort of drunk on red wine brain that DUH, STUPID! You should've invited your parents over for Sunday dinner!!

Ugh. Opportunity? See ya around the way again sometime, I guess.

This is, indeed, a meal meant for company. It isn't fancy or exceptionally WOWing in presentation. But I'll be damned, I don't like roast, I don't like one pot meals, and I love the crap out of this dish.

I've made it only once before and I distinctly remember Chris and I looking at one another from beneath Meat-Sweats-Brows and saying good Lord, is this filling!

It is, by no means, a standard pot roast. It is complex in flavor and involves no french onion soup packets or cream of condensed crap gravies. This is the only way to do pot roast. Period.

Yes, it takes a little doing. A little searing. A little thought. I sipped on a glass of wine before pouring a few into the dutch oven. Then I sipped on another as I joyfully tossed in the last of the fresh rosemary from my backyard garden. Yes, I know, you hate me and you badly wish you could be as exceptionally wonderful as me.

Please address that letter to my Commonlaw Husband, Chris, and remind him of how exceptionally wonderful women deserve sparkling gratitude.

We'll be feasting on this meal in the loving company of one another; mopping up the red wine and brandy-romatic gravy with homemade, harvest foccacia bread. Damnit, Pinterest, you've really forced all of us to up our games.

To you and your's and the pending Autumn weekend, Salute.

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