Sugarfire Smokehouse is hosting a Restaurant Rally at the Boathouse in Forest Park this morning.
I pulled into line just after 9 a.m., having first gotten the bread started at home.
I arrived back home at 10 a.m., with a yummy breakfast burrito in hand, and minus a $50 bill that I left as a donation to do a bit to ease someone’s worry.
From the email announcement yesterday:
This Sunday (March 29, 2020) in the cul-de-sac of the Boathouse at Forest Park we’re partnering with a growing list of local restaurants and vendors (see the list below) for a very special breakfast (9am-11am) and lunch (11am until sold out) drive-thru. And we need YOU to come and grab some food. We’re doing this, no-contact, drive-thru, give-what-you-can, take-what-you-need-style, straight from the heart of our city.
Just pull up, and we’ll safely toss you a burrito, donut, sandwich (or a few), or whatever and you can drive off, or toss a donation in a bucket to support the newly founded Gateway Resilience Fund to provide direct relief for local hospitality and retail businesses and teams throughout the region.
It’s a click-bait header, I know . . . .
But I had a heart attack on a plate yesterday morning.
When in England, I love fried bread at breakfast. Look it up. It’s on the breakfast buffet at any swank hotel.
Here in the States, I make fried bread about once a year. It’s so easy and so fast and so yummy and so heart-killing. (Don’t ask me what the frying agent was.)
I’m watching loads of BBC stuff on the streaming services late in the evening, and Monday evening I found myself craving fried bread.
With homemade bread in the fridge, and bacon and eggs always at hand, I indulged.
So there it is. And there it was. And call my cardiologist.
Breakfast of homemade latkes. And some fresh pineapple.
Trying to be normal.
Forest Park Forever has on-line a bunch of nature sounds from the park, so I’m listening to the sound of birds in Kennedy Woods.
And I took out the trash and recycling and breathed some outside air, then cut some daffodils for different rooms of the house.
And we persevere!
With Grace and Greg Jones, I attended last evening a lovely themed dinner, conceptually called Dovetail.
The idea? Music inspires food, and after the music is performed, the food is served.
The location? Intersect Arts Center in South City.
The music was Britten’s 3rd cello suite, movingly played by Jennifer Humphreys from the Saint Louis Symphony Orchestra.
And the food was by artist and chef Tai Davis.
Notice the dovetailed wood?
Too many of my food photos did not turn out!
Saturday evening at home. Snow is falling outdoors, and the roads are rough. I’m staying in, which is what I had intended to do anyhow.
The MainStage programming is all complete, the pieces are written, and tomorrow I meet the band and rehearse for the first (and only) time. This time next week, two Circus Harmony Fluente shows will be down, with four to go.
I’m spending the evening indoors, working on the NASM self-study that must be in the post on Wednesday. This project is giving me that feeling I have when I’m on my last day abroad — I want to enjoy one more day, but I can feel the call of home, and my mind is already there. My mind is already on other things, especially since school begins Monday.
And tomorrow is a circus day.
Realizing this morning what the weather would be today, I decided to make some shepherd’s pie. I had one brick of frozen ground lamb left in the freezer, so I thawed it today. Minced lamb with carrots and thyme and gravy was the base; mashed Yukon Gold potatoes with butter and Parmesan the top layer. Cheddar cheese finished it off.
Vegetable shortening has no place in my house, since I don’t use it enough for it to keep without going rancid.
Snickerdoodle recipes almost invariably call for part butter, part shortening, so I’ve been on a search for an all-butter recipe that I actually like.
Thank you, Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook, 10th edition (© 1989) for this perfect recipe!
I spoke too soon in prepping this blog entry.
The cookies turned out like unleavened gooey butter cake.
A total disaster, except that that crumbs tasted like baked butter. Which I happen to think is a great flavor.