Further to my last
I should like to add a new rule to the minor canon: that it is impossible to read with an excited dog. Chispa is just so utterly happy to be in our yard, her sheer joy at this circumstance has driven me indoors.
In other news, yoga may have changed nights but yogi dinner has not. I am baking bread and making a grandfather's-axe casserole, where the recipe calls for sausage, carrot and bay leaves, and I am substituting spare ribs, fennel and sage. (Chispa helped me gather the sage.) The recipe also calls for a couple of glasses of red wine, and we had a bottle of two-buck Chuck left over from the party; so half of that has gone in, and I am duly drinking the other half, because if you can't drink it you shouldn't cook with it, right? (It has been suggested to me that I misunderstand or misapply this rule, invertedly. *shrugs*)
Also they're getting leftovers, because I really liked yesterday's chicken in lemon and sage sauce, but I had to make a lot of it, so. We'll see how that reheats. Possibly in the microwave, even, because the sauce is thickened with egg yolks and I don't want it to boil.
Also I shall make buttered cabbage with fennel seed, because I can.