is it noon yet?

Is it wrong that I'm already thinking about lunch? Plotting the next meal while I'm doing something else seems to be a favorite game. Kind of like when others are coming up with their next brilliant plan for a novel or the schematic for a floor plan or the cure for cancer - my brain is solving the question of: What interesting meal can I make?

letting your pot roast

Few things in life perplex me more than a pot roast. A slab of beef, a tough slab no less, that when cooked slowly in liquid becomes a stringy moist mess of meat that makes a delicious belly warming meal. That is if you have the patience...and I do not. Past attempts at this dish have resulted in rubbery sad pieces of meat that aren't fit to give the dog. Which makes me want to conquer said pot roast even more!

Tonight channeling my mother as best as I can (Mom make's the best pot roast hands down) I pull out the LeCreuset, the boneless chuck she gave me and vow to not wreck the roast. I understand the science of the cooking method with this cut of meat, and maybe time, the wait and my mother's long distance vibe pay off.

A delicious meat feast with potatoes and carrots and homemade gravy. Success!

Easy-Bake oven for adults

In preparation for my Walden experiment I've purchased a toaster/convection oven. Makes me feel like finally, I own an Easy-Bake oven only better.

The convection oven works fabulously! Cookies and biscuits bake up in less time than in my conventional gas oven and seem to brown a bit better.

Still experimenting with the temperatures and timing - not an appliance I feel comfortable leaving alone to do it's thing (think fire.) But I'm certain soon enough I'll be multi-tasking while the oven bakes - not watching over it like an expectant mother.

Dining alone and with others

10:56 AM I've had enough coffee to make my stomach feel odd; read enough of the Sunday LA Times to feel like there are people I'm missing out on; scouted a location for a Christmas card photograph and all the while let my mind ruminate over the dinner I had last night with 12 strangers.

At best, it was an interesting evening - cool surroundings, interesting views -marred only by the fact that several of the diners fancy themselves to be gastronomic experts and marvels of restaurant service.

Seated at a long table in the wine room at the Andaz Hotel - it is difficult to converse with more than the people one is seated with. But in retrospect, I scored a good seat, surrounded by people who enjoy a food adventure and didn't seem to take anything too seriously. Which is more than I can say for the other end of the table.

The service was a tad poor and the food not all that spectacular, but it was the other half of the table and their behavior that stands out in my mind this morning. Which is sad - as all I remember are two guests in particular who made loud repeated comments about their disappointment with their meals, and the odd service and blah, blah (more like nag, nag, nag.)

A reminder I suppose that when dining with self ascribed foodies, especially strangers, it might be advisable to bring ear plugs, drink much and pretend to not speak the language.