Great Pheasant Feast

Monday


I’m experiencing the age-old blogging problem of being too busy to write. As a consolation, I’m busy doing the same thing over and over again, so not much of a loss.

Going back to Tuesday, election day (or day of disappointing outcomes), I stopped on my way home to vote. Blaine and I made dinner at my house and watched the returns. Not one race or ballot measure turned out the way I wanted. Blaine and I don’t align all that well politically so he had a less disappointing night. When one race was called for someone I consider especially horrible at their job, I shook my head, disappointed and appalled but not surprised. I always vote for the best qualified candidate even if I don’t particularly like them, but in this case I would have voted for the opponent even if it was roadkill. Given the way it turned out, I wish I had gone with a write-in candidate: Flat Racoon or R-h-o-d-e K. Racoon.”

On Wednesday it snowed and on Thursday the wind blew it around and made the highways and Interstate slick. On Friday the temperature dropped to winter coat, gloves and scarf levels. For most of the day Blaine, Paul and Henry sent texts back and forth (with Eve, Julia and I included) as they decided if they still wanted to go hunting this weekend or push it back to December. By the time the six of us met for drinks and dinner after work, they had decided to go.

They left Saturday morning before 5:00 and returned around 10 p.m. with 11 dressed birds, which  wasn’t a lot by their expectations. On the way home they decided the six of us would gather and feast at Blaine’s on Sunday evening.

While the men were hunting, I busied myself with gathering. Mica and I shopped for Christmas party outfits. I’m running out of time and optimism. I bought a wool skirt in winter white that I don’t like but might be improved with alterations. I don’t have anything in my closet to go with it but I think a simple cashmere sweater will work, and I can order that. With heels and accessorizing, it should be appropriate for Blaine’s office party. The other party, the one thrown by one of the partners, is tougher. I need to ask Blaine what he will wear. If he wears a suit, I’ll need a dress. That party will stress me out every which way.

Yesterday--Sunday--Mica and I met for brunch where I crushed my finger between the seat, which was loose, and the chair frame. After, we took the little white dog to the dog park where he met an indifferent min pin and a cranky rough coated jack russell.

I went to Blaine’s afterward to help him get things sorted for the Great Pheasant Feast. He had already been to the grocery store to buy what he needed for his contribution.

Oh, I didn’t explain what they decided to do. Three men, three pheasants, three preparations. This came about because Blaine likes to brine and roast, Paul prefers a smoked pheasant and Henry does some fancy thing with a deboned bird and wild rice.

Blaine and I decided this was a good time to make an apple pie using the apples we bought at the orchard. I had forgotten about them. Fortunately he had stashed them in a cool, dry place (a utility closet that shares a wall with the garage).

“I’m going to run home and get cinnamon,” I said, reaching for my coat. “Do you have a rolling pin?”

He was at the counter on the kitchen side and leaned on his hands when he heard my question. With a tone of measured patience that I suspect Allison has heard a time or two, he said, “Not only do I have a rolling pin, I have cinnamon.”

“You do not have this cinnamon.”

“I’m intrigued.”

I walked behind him to get to the garage door since that’s the way I enter and exit now. “Do you have a pie plate?” I teased. “Hot pad holders?” I felt one of those hit my back.

The cinnamon that’s good enough to make a special trip for is from Indonesia via a spice store in Chicago. It has a deep flavor that isn’t bitter. I really do believe it’s noticeably better than other cinnamon.

While I was home, Blaine sent a text: Could you pick up ice cream on your way back? Yes, I have bowls.

The pie turned out pretty well. The filling was good and the apples tender but not mushy. We need to practice the crust because it was a bit dry. Ice cream helps hide crust sins, though.

I liked the pheasant just fine. We also roasted carrots, onions and fennel, and separately I roasted a pan of Brussels sprouts because I had a package at home that I needed to use. Paul and Eve brought mashed potatoes. Everyone brought wine.

Now there’s talk of doing something like this again. A dinner club of sorts, perhaps monthly through the winter. I couldn’t tell how much of the buy-in was because of the good food and company or the amount of wine that was poured.