Comfort Foods and Indulgences

For a lazy summer afternoon, tiramisu is the perfect pick-me-up. Its literal translation is pick me up (tira mi su). Tiramisu is one of those desserts that has as many different versions as there are mothers in Italy.

This is my simple yet traditional version of the easy to assemble, no-bake, no-cook dessert.

Mascarpone can be found in Italian specialty stores usually in an 8-ounce or 17-ounce container. Feel free to use all 17 ounces if purchasing the latter size.

The tiramisu is best after it has been refrigerated overnight.

So we wanted to create something in the spirit of Mardi Gras for Cooking Channel’s Devour The Blog.

The result is something so delicious that I just had to point you in that direction. And since I just got back from Louisiana yesterday I might just have to make another batch. With beer. Plenty of beer.

And just for kicks, we also decided to make a quick video comprised of still images. Sumthin’ like 220 or so.

And there are focus issues. And the music doesn’t line up exactly. And it’s very DIY. But it’s fun! And Adam let me film his famous hands. Enjoy it and happy celebratin’!

Little Gracie had been feeling under the weather all day Wednesday. She had no interest in running and playing, choosing to curl up and sleep for most of the day. And, she was coughing.

So, yesterday, off to the vet we went. When I take Gracie for a ride in the car, I feel like a new mother packing up to take the new baby out to run errands. I have no diaper bag, though. I put some water in the special bowl I have with a tight-sealing screw-on lid. Chew toys for the crate in the back seat. The leash. Treats to replenish the small supply I keep in my cup-holder in the front seat.

For this trip, I also made room for a small basket of my favorite chocolate chip cookies. I was sure the nice doctors, office staff and techs at the veterinary clinic would enjoy a people treat of their own.

With our 12th wedding anniversary right around the corner, I thought I’d look up 12th year wedding gifts. The traditional gifts are silks and linens. Who came up with those? Does that mean I should expect a linen table cloth? Should Jeff expect silk pajamas? I think not.

In fact, after 12 years together, I want to give Jeff something memorable, something unique. So, I was thinking a potato. Not any potato. (What kind of wife do you think I am?) A jacket potato, as they call it in England, or as we Yanks call it, a stuffed potato. Now, before you consider me the most un-romantic person you’ve ever met, read on.

 Our honeymoon had an inauspicious start. Our scheduled non-stop flight from Boston to London was cancelled due to thunderstorms, and consequently our luggage was “misplaced” (the Brits’ genteel word for “lost”). In part due to a choppy ride and part due to just-married-bliss, we did not sleep on the flight over and landed in London late and red-eyed.

When we arrived, we discovered that our inn was just as we anticipated: a Victorian brownstone on a tree lined, thoroughly British street. There was even a consummate Brit, heels clicking on the pavement, with his walking stick swinging in one hand and the Sunday Times in the other.

The woman at the inn greeted us warmly then asked for our name. After Jeff told her, she looked at him, then at me, then back at him and back to me. She said, “Uncanny how much you two look alike. Are you brother and sister?”