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Today I slept in until I couldn’t sleep in any more.  I woke up at my usual time just long enough to shut off all my alarms (yes, that was plural), and fell blissfully back to sleep until well after noon.  I think I ate breakfast around two.  I didn’t change out of my pj’s until about four.  It was lovely.

Yesterday I had my cooking day with Lil’ Mama.  It was pretty cool.  We made five kinds of tarts (two savory – spinach feta and fresh tomato with basil mayonnaise, and three sweet – raspberry, blueberry, and peach), and Pasta Primavera Salad.  I had roasted a turkey breast the night before with garlic and rosemary, which we served cold on the side to satisfy the meat’n’potatoes boys.  I had rosemary bread I’d baked the night before ready to serve too, but with all that pie crust, we thought it wasn’t necessary.  Indeed, it wasn’t.  The pasta salad was very, very good.  The tarts were stunning.  I wish I’d taken pictures of them, they looked that good.  (Sensei: “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but those almost look fake, like the food props they put out at Pottery Barn that look so good, and then you pick them up and realize they’re pretend.”)  Each fruit had its own cream filling flavored with a different liquer.  The raspberries went with framboise (of course), the peaches had apricot brandy, and the blueberries had Triple Sec.  So good.  Now LM and I just have to figure out what we’re going to do for an encore.

Part of the fun was watching Bounce decide what he was and wasn’t going to eat.  He’s rather particular about his food (Bounce: “I’m a pain in the ass”).  It isn’t that he’s ever rude about this.  He sits and looks at it, his face sort of freezes in a very polite expression (what I call his Hell No I’m Not Eating That face), and he goes very still for a moment.  Then he either serves himself just a little, or passes it right on by.  It amuses me greatly.  The pasta salad was pushing things for him, but he ate it and enjoyed it.  Having gone that far, the spinach tart was more than he could do for one night.  The turkey was a hit, though, and I think he stuffed himself on the berry tarts.  He paid for it at dancing later.  (Bounce: “It’s like the food’s wrangling in my belly – the capicolla and proscuitto are having words with the fettucine, the blueberries are trying to keep the peace, but the raspberries – they’re troublemakers.  And the peaches are just off in their own little corner, being cool with themselves.”)  With all that going on, it’s a wonder he danced at all.  The rest of us didn’t have this problem.  I think it’s because we ate the spinach tart.

Tomorrow Guru’s husband is going to come put up the cookbook shelves in the dining room, and the teapot shelf in the kitchen.  This makes me very happy! 

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