Today: Boiled 30 eggs. Hopefully will boil 30 more tomorrow. My kitchen was not equipped with feeding the 5000 in mind, and my pots don’t get washed often enough anyway. Thank goodness hardboiled eggs keep.
Going to order ingredients for Iron Pie (ok, it’s a quiche, but doesn’t Iron Pie sound… stronger? More rebellious?) to be delivered not before Friday at 6pm, because I have run out of room in my poor refrigerator.
My husband has always claimed I have a Jewish Grandmother somewhere in my genes, but isn’t it a normal impulse to want to nurture and support those you love with delicious food? And since I love everyone at Liberty Plaza (especially the guy whose plate was filled with, and only with, the salad I delivered yesterday. My salad was competing with cookie dough ice cream-- scooped by a Ben and Jerry's Board member, no less-- and he chose my salad! I love you guys!), I must feed them. All of them.
Ask me how!
Tomorrow is supposed to be rainy, so I’m planning on starting some winter squash risotto as soon as I get Number One Son home from school (3:30). Last batch was great, but I used my stock pot and I reckon it was not more than 50-60 servings. I think if I use my canning tub, I could make more than double that. The question is, can I wash cheesy rice out of the canning tub? …Will let you know more as the glutinous mess develops…
…and my sweet, strong, dashing husband has volunteered to carry the risotto into that dark and stormy night. Protestors, if you see my Giant Red Backpack of Doom on a lost-looking but devilishly handsome English bloke, he’s mine. Please send him back unharmed, and I’ll send you more quiche. (I mean, Iron Pie!)
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