Microblog

Returned home after walking with friends. Performed my usual twerk dance to get the electronic lock to notice my presence and unlock the door. Dwight calls this my waggle dance, like a bee returning to the hive. He reminded me he’s happy with his old-fashioned key.

Tonight for dessert: salty caramel/Oreo Semifreddo. Heavy cream, crème fraîche, dulce de leche, salt, thin Oreos. The texture was quite decent without the egg custard and whipped egg whites I incorporated in last week’s Semifreddo. It’s dangerously too easy to make.

Walked in heavy rain to the farmers market at Mill City Museum. Filled a pack with local produce: bacon brats for Sausage Saturday, tomatoes, green beans, and Indian eggplant. Today’s rain deterred shoppers while making a dent in the drought: farmers are always at the mercy of the weather.

Tutored, without fear of passing on my lingering cold. Today we discussed Rosa Parks, and different styles of speech and writing when honoring her legacy.

On Tuesday I posted about “Men Without Women” prompting a friend to ask which author—Murakami (2014) or Hemingway (1927)? She correctly surmised Murakami. Today, continued my temporary couch potato life by reading Hemingway’s. It’s no accident Murakami used the title.

Ventured out to Five Watt Coffee for a socially distanced cuppa.

A nasty cold has an upside: reading. Yesterday, I finally finished a book of short stories, “Men Without Women.” Today, cover to cover, a page-turner novel, “Sweet Bean Paste.”

Today I sound like a glum Harvey Fierstein, low energy, raspy throat. Grateful it’s only a cold, my first in over 2½ years: Covid tests were negative. It hurts to postpone getting with friends and fulfilling commitments, but it’s a day for lolling on the couch.

Deconstructed eggplant Parmesan while retaining most of the ingredients. I enjoy this dish, but would prefer the breading not to be soggy. Breading: Mixture of panko and grated Parmesan Reggiano. Red sauce addition: Crumbles of Montamore Cheddar from Wisconsin, providing more of a taste punch than mozzarella. At the table, knives and forks assembled eggplant… Continue reading Deconstructed, Reconstructed Eggplant Parmesan

Sometimes I feel we live in an alternate reality where “plate” is a culinary verb. Yesterday I made peanut-butter-flavored semifreddo. Tonight it was time to remove it from the freezer, plate it, then let it warm up a bit in the fridge. I had fun with The Smear, one method for plating a sauce. The… Continue reading The Smear

Minnesota Orchestra tonight. Enjoyed our usual pre-show wine in the upper bar which had been set up as a piano lounge. At our usual seats in Orchestra Hall, found ourselves next to the just-announced music director, Thomas Søndergård, and his husband. Pretended not to notice… even when he stood up when he was welcomed from… Continue reading Boundaries

A recent article in the local paper declared the Twin Cities to be “a hotspot for labyrinths.” This morning, I sated my curiosity by visiting one at Bethel Lutheran Church in South Minneapolis. A nearby sign suggested walking the pathways while meditating. I got back on my bicycle instead. I’d consciously been in the present… Continue reading Being in the Moment

At the end of our walk, stopped in to Trader’s for enough fresh food to get us through the day. After 3 weeks of too much eating out, we’re craving veg-forward meals. Tonight: stir-fried veggies over brown rice.

On board, Lisbon LIS–Boston BOS.

They couldn’t figure out how to rent three scooters, so dad and sons shared one scooter. Moments before, nephew #2 boarded and somehow managed to position himself in the middle.

Stopped at the tiny A Ginjinha Bar (recommended by Rick Steves, no less), established in 1840, counter open to the street. Here, purely in the interest of scientific exploration, my brother-in-law bought two shots of the only beverage on sale: one for him to share with my sister-in-law, and one for Dwight and me. We… Continue reading Imbibing on the Sidewalk