Stephanie says

Jeanne, new to the wonders of computers, loved to browse internet dating sites, with me frequently at her side. We talked about opening an account for her, but she was wary, in part because negotiating websites was intimidating, but also the thought of creating a profile was daunting. I shot a series of profile photos and she selected the totally girly one with a spray of pink roses under her chin, which I popped onto my inactive Match.com profile, to give her an idea of how her page would appear. She continued to balk at setting up her own account so I gave her my password and changed the defaults to browse invisibly. She was off and running. One day I received an email from some guy named Ron, wanting to meet for coffee. He liked her photo and profile. Oh oh. Make that her photo and MY profile. In classic romantic comedy fashion I forwarded the email to HER, phoned her to say “you’ve got mail,” and logged onto Match.com to change the browser visibility, inadvertently changed whi...

Winter-blooming flower.  Suffers much neglect!   Wood Rose?  Mountain Rose?  Not a true rose judging from the leaves which are not thorny. 

A ridiculously optimistic title unless I live to be, oh, 120 or so. Make that 121.5. Revise to read “Post-Mid-Life-Crisis.” A number of events occurred this past year that shook the core of my belief systems leaving my once dearly held self-confidence in a most disagreeable muddle. What I once knew as truth is not. What’s more, it never was. Uncle Howard, (my go-to guy for sage advice,) says realizing you don’t know nothin about nothin is good. That it frees the mind from self-imposed notions (read that as “rigid”) conceived over the years and opens a door to real clarity. Here’s hoping he’s right. Apparently this is not an overnight process. I constantly second guess myself, regardless of how inconsequential in the greater scheme of things. I miss the self-assured confidence of those good old know-it-all days. I’d have tossed off a one-liner then: enlightenment is over-rated. Which still strikes me as funny. Yup, not an overnight process.

I am so full.  From left 11:00 o'clock: Chanterelle mushroom risotto finished with truffle butter. Rainbow chard.  Perfectly grilled Flank streak with rosemary and thyme and finished with truffle oil and truffle slices.  Not pictured:  Hot from the oven biscuits (served with truffle infused butter.  Oh my.)  Terry finishing Flank streak with truffle oil Wonderful meal.  Excellent company.  What more can you say about a man who cooks up this feast then does clean-up, all the while entertaining me?   Amen, sister. Wait, he had sugar sticks for my espresso.

Otherwise known as "Orgasmic Raspberry Chiffon Pudding" - you'll see why. We scored truffles so dinner this evening is a truffle-fest.  My part (besides eating and eating and eating) was dessert.  Thought something light was in order - and I've been on a pudding jag lately (vanilla bean pudding to go with the caramel sauce I made last week) - so this recipe came to mind.  It's adapted from Cook's Country Raspberry Chiffon Pie.  Turns out the adaptation was rather more than I intended. I was totally distracted while making this; busy licking spoons, etc. when I noticed I'd forgotten to blend in the "reserved" jam into the chiffon layer.  Yes, the reserved jam with intense berry flavor. This was after I'd spooned the chiffon into dessert glasses.  I whipped up the jam and more whipping cream separately and now my dessert has three pink layers.  After the fact:  Way too rich after the truffle-fest.  Way sweet too, even wit...

I bought “The Magician’s Assistant” because the title reminded me of “The Time Traveler’s Wife,” a wonderful vacation read I happily stumbled across, (there is something so intriguing about time travel*.) This was my first Anne Patchett book.   The story was about a recently deceased magician whose wife discovers his unknown family.   She’d believed his family had died long ago. Patchett paints her main characters very one-dimensional initially (read that as dull) then as the story progresses she slowly fleshes out their character and temperament into fully dimensional and likeable characters.   I’ve tried to recall this technique used in other books but haven’t identified one yet.   It’s very effective.   Thumbs up for this one. Then there was “Bel Canto” set in a politically tumultuous tropical country.   It’s the story of a world-renowned opera singer, among others, taken hostage, and the relationship between the captives and cap...

What do you do with left over whipping cream?   I could have it over chocolate cheerios, dang those are good, and certainly not approved for the Primal Diet.   Oh well, the 80%/20% rule covers this infraction.   But I’m out of cheerios – so Caramel Sauce it is. I made Mom’s Christmas Pie – her version of coconut cream pie – enter the whipping cream.   Note: Decided to go without the crust this time.   So it’s pudding.   And really, really good.    1 cup sugar 1/3 cup water *Have a large pan of cold water ready to stop the cooking once the desired caramel color is achieved. Blend the sugar and water in heavy saucepan and bring to simmer.   Remove from heat, and swirl the pan by its handle to make sure the sugar has completely dissolved, and the liquid is perfectly clear. Cover the pan tightly and boil the syrup for several minutes over moderately high heat – keep peeking, after a minute or so, and boil un...

(Set to "I can fly" from Peter Pan) I have a pickup! It’s my daughter’s “Oregon rig” now parked here. I’ll amend that to read “running” pickup as my 1962 Ford F100 isn’t. Running, that is. Too bad because it is darling and I look very cute at the wheel. Since I have with no automotive repair knowledge, no mechanic-type man hanging around my door, and an aversion to getting grease on my hands, it will likely continue to claim garage space. A running pickup presents so many opportunities besides the obvious hauling wet dogs home after a swim. Oh, oh, camping. I haven’t camped once in the past two years. That’s sad. My tent probably has moth holes but I know exactly where it is, my camp- model espresso maker as well. And household projects galore. Is that a good thing? Mostly yes. When you see the word “check” read checkbook. Need barkdust. Check. Need gravel. Check. Lumber! How I love lumber yards – logger’s daughter that I am. Here come built-in bookshelves (check...

  That title is way ahead of where we're at in the process but I'm very optimistic.  Motivated by dreams of truffle snuffing dogs I made a run to the pet store and bought clickers, then baked small treats for training purposes.   I’m clicking them to “sit” and they’ve got the idea.   It's a start. Turkey treats for the dogs Ingredients: 2 cups cooked turkey, cut up 1/2 cup turkey stock 2 eggs 2 tablespoons brewer's yeast 2 tablespoons turkey fat (because I had it on hand and what else am I going to do with it?) 1 cup rice flour (supposed to be more easily digestible for dogs than wheat) Step 1: Place turkey in food processor container.   Pulse until evenly ground.   Step 2: Add the remaining ingredients ( except rice flour ) and process until smooth. Step 3: Pour into a mixing bowl then add the rice flour.   Mix well. Step 4: Pour batter onto a parchment-lined cookie sheet.   Level batter Bake at 350 degrees for 25 ...

I tramped through Douglas fir on a truffle quest with ever delightful Terry and a local couple, Bob and Deb, and their dog, Tucker, who is in his second year of truffle hunting training. This makes me the novice, having never so much as tasted a truffle, although certain that I’ll love the flavor. It’s a gray, overcast day. No rain. Flat ground amid the rising ambrosia of bruised fir needles and soil. Forest smells. All is happy in my world today. Tucker is on the loose running through the woods, nose to ground. The hunt is on. He stops and begins digging. Immediately we humans rush to the spot and Bob gets down on his knees and checks the surrounding area. No luck this time, it’s a small animal tunnel. Tucker is off again. Bob hides a truffle scented container in some ferns, a training technique to remind the dog what he’s looking for, and in an amazingly brief time Tucker obliges! Terry and I are totally impressed. (Okay, so what I want to know is since dogs...

Blogger.com stats yielded some surprising results. Top Posts 1. Eackley: An account of a road trip ending at a cattle drive in remote Oregon. I didn’t actually round up cattle but did make it in time for dinner. Eackley 2. Teepee in snow: Photo at my place in Central Oregon, no caption. Photo 3. Leland Post: A bio piece about my uncle.  Uncle Leland 4. Ruralite: Me poking fun at crocheted animal toilet paper covers. I got my comeuppance for being a smart aleck because search engine keywords indicate a number of people out there were looking for crochet patterns. Who knew?  Ruralite 5. Cranberry-grape salad: It is a great recipe. But really? In the top 5?  Recipe Audience 1. United States. Well, of course. 2. Russia. This has to be what’s driving the teepee numbers, an iconic North American image. Surely not crocheted animal toilet paper covers. There’s really no way to tell. I’ve included links if you’re so inclined. M...