This was not such a heavy cooking week. The challah was baked last week and a guest is bringing the vegetable matter.
I decided to make the meatballs extra fancy by making them with caramelized onions.
Who would have thought that something so simple could have such a hauntingly complex flavor. Like lots of the foods that I make, the secret ingredient is time.
Here are the meatballs in their completed state.
I will probably make some sort of a sauce to put over the meatballs when they heat up in the oven. It will probably be some sort of a sweet, savory vinegary smoky variety, that is some form of home made barbeque sauce.
I also made potatoes with lemon and baby spinach.
I am pretending that this is a Greek recipe. For all I know it might be, but I made it based on what was in the fridge.
I am currently cooking up the mix for what will be tonight’s ice cream, apples, ginger and mixed berries sweetened with maple.
As I have mentioned previously, my grief for my mother is expressing itself in indirect ways. Yesterday I felt an intense need to make myself the sort of dress my mother might have worn in the heat of the summer.
A cotton lawn shift in a scroll print. The good noticers among you will notice that I didn’t properly center the print. This is exactly the sort of dress my mother wore in the summers from the mid 1960’s until a couple of summers before she died.
The early versions were sleeveless or were shirt sleeved dresses with tissues hidden away in the cuffs. I don’t think that this style of dress is even particularly flattering on me, but it feels nice to wear a dress like one my mother might have worn.