Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Resurrection vs Reprise

Well, I'm not quite sure how to say this other than I might be headed to Hell at some point.

It's true, yours truly, did not have leg of lamb with my yummy Scarborough Fair Rub, or really any of that menu for Easter Dinner. Now in all fairness, I really was planning on that menu, I promise!

Alas, this is what happens to liars. I get an unshaded parking spot in "115 degrees for the low" Hell. I think this is every Tucsonan's version at least. The only other option for me is enough dirty dishes and nasty tile grout to last an eternity. I guess we'll just have to wait and see. I'll let you know by flickering a light once if it's the unshaded parking spot, and twice if I'm in for the scrubbing and bleaching of my after-life.

Impossible? Keep in mind I only have 4 followers, so it'll be way easy to do the whole lights flickering thing. Especially if the other 3 put up their pictures.

My newest 'new and improved' hope is that I actually do one stinkin' holiday dinner before the year is out! The only silver lining with the whole Passover/Easter debacle is that I didn't substitute Prime Rib for the lamb like some people (read: TODD!!!)

Not that there's anything wrong with that.


Maybe not...

It feels wrong though, doesn't it? I'm not sure why, but it does. You know as a kid I took communion and ate the "body" then drank the "blood." If just typing that alone gives me the heebie geebies, imagine a super rare, blood red, 'moo' when you cut into it Prime Rib... It's like every single pang of guilt past piled into one juicy hunk of meat just staring you down at the dinner table on Easter Sunday. Repent, repent, repent.

Funny, I don't get that Ghosts of Easter past vibe from lamb.


That image and subsequent chill bumps made me put back the incredibly priced standing rib roast, and get the boneless ghosts-be-gone pork loin roast instead.

If only I had a great recipe to follow for the pork...

Now I'm really done for right? A shameless plug, I know, I know. Back-off, I just might take you down with me!

Using blog as confessional, here was the menu that I finally put together for our families for Easter Dinner as I shopped at 1pm on Sunday:

Maple-Dijon Pork Loin Roast with Spiced Granny Smith Apple Sauce
Smashed Yukon Gold Potatoes
Oven Roasted Baby Carrots and Asparagus with Caramelized Shallots
and for dessert,
Vanilla and Tangelo Macerated Strawberries (with a touch of Grand Marnier)
on top of cream puffs (store bought *blink*)

Sometimes you need to grab a store bought item to make the other dishes shine. I started cooking at 3pm and we were at our best friends house ready to eat at 5:30pm.

So there it is, plain and simple. There's really nothing crazy, or hard to find ingredients, or "28 steps for Vegan chili?" about the menu, but the way in which this is executed leaves time for you to file two insurance claims. Oh, I've got the claim numbers to prove it.

I got rear ended in the grocery store parking lot and offered the disabled woman not to worry about the melon sized dent in my bumper.

I'll just chalk up the dent in my bumper to that's what bumpers are for. I figure this is the appropriate response. She's disabled, I was out of my spot and shifted into D. She clipped my rear and did some nice damage to her car, mine is our family van, and I figure it'll be character building for my older son when I hand it down to him.
So I say, "It's Easter." Her reply, "What does that mean?"


I'm a Unitarian Universalist, this could take a while. I'm having this conversation about Easter in my head, and I realize that she's referring to the accident. I look at her, and my inner argument is interrupted by her words, "Who's going to pay for this damage (to my car)?"

"You are?" I say. I've shifted from magnanimous to incredulous. Is this really how God is going to punish me for balking on my Easter Dinner recipe?!?

"But you hit me." Her words are floating above her head, and I can see where this Sunday Comic Strip is heading. My dinner is slipping away in the next frame, I'm cutting the roast into tiny little chops. I beat the crap out them of until I can see through them my eye showing through a hole in one of the scallopini. The next frame I open up one of my son's TJ's Organic Apple-Mixed Berry Sauce to top 'em with. In the final one I'm serving Salt and Pepper Kettle Chips for the veggies and garnishing with cheese sticks...

I'm still looking for the lesson here. I get hit. I pay 50% of the total damage to her car, my premium probably goes up...

Who knows.

Maybe I'll go save a bug or something to swing me more to the enlightenment side of things.

Then again, maybe Hell is dealing with car insurance companies and claim adjusters... It sure as hell feels like it.

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