Ordinary to Counter the Extraordinary
Some changes have occurred on our little blog. (The new picture in the title bar is my favourite change- and Marc’s favourite dessert.) Marc was the initiator of the changes and is way more knowledgeable regarding the improvements, but we did collaborate a little to compile the beginnings of the Favourite Recipes page. It was fun to go back through the posts from the past few months and remember what we ate and what was the best (and what was the worst). One of those past posts had me craving that marvelous Mushroom Risotto so we re-created the dish last week and added a sharp, little salad to the meal: endive with shaved asiago and shallot vinaigrette. As it was so cold outside last week, this delicious, if rather plain, comfort food was especially soul-warming when accompanied by a freshly opened bottle of red and eaten while watching good TV.
I can’t recall exactly what we watched that evening because we hardly watch “live” TV anymore because of the DVR. However, we’re kind of running low on saved programs lately and thus, were forced to watch real TV – with all the commercials even! – on Saturday night. Apparently, we’ve been missing out on some of the stranger stuff on the airwaves these days, like The President’s Day Salute to Swimsuits Marathon; we just saw an ad for this because it doesn’t air until tonight but I find it amusing, nonetheless, that to celebrate great political leaders of the past, they broadcast many, many pictures of women in bikinis. Because they go together. I know when I think of Abraham Lincoln, I am reminded of beachwear.
Also, we saw a documentary on the local Access network called Millionaire Dogs. It profiled the lives a few extremely unlucky dogs in Manhattan, who are forced to live with wacko “parents” who insist that their “children” wear sweaters, go to swimming lessons, stay at pet hotels instead of regular kennels and regularly visit the psychic in order to communicate their wishes and needs. There is some serious coin being spent on these poor creatures; I’m not sure that gourmet dog food, a thrice-daily walk from a professional dog-walker and a privately catered birthday party your spoiled dog-friends could make up for the humiliation involved in wearing a plaid golf cap, with matching booties and being carried in a baby carrier, hoping that none of your friends saw you.