I made ugly cake. It was a big hit. It looked a little plain, so I adorned it with dark callebaut chips. Hippoboy was pleased. And I got him a bottle of fine scotch as a 21st birthday present. We opened it with friends and had a lovely party, complete with movie and popcorn and much laughter and silliness.
Augh. How dissapointing then, after a few days of absolutely lovely weather, to come down with a cold. I told myself it was allergies, but when I woke up coughing, congested, headachy, and sore of throat this morning I knew I had to stop kidding myself.
Odd how one's need for theraputic soups comes in direct inverse to ones ability to putter around the kitchen chopping and concocting. I wanted to lie in my bed and have soup brought to me, but as this was not an option, I ground up a telma cube, popped in some frozen artichoke hearts, and rummaged through my fridge. I tore up some parsley, cilantro, and dill, ground in some fresh pepper and splashed in some lemon juice. Lemons have vitamin C in them, right? Drizzled in some olive oil. Celery salt and garlic salt and boiled untill the hearts were cooked. Tastes vaguely syrian. Topped with some pine nuts. Now I want to crawl back into my bed and sniffle for a while more. But remind me to post about the syrian stuffed artichokes I made two weeks ago, and the steak salad that Hippoboy made.