Yesterday was my last day of work. Thursday my boss pulled together an impressive lunch, inviting everyone in our little corner of the building. One of the ladies actually brought homemade lemon ice cream. It’s her specialty, and for good reason. It was flawless. Wednesday I planted the “demonstration garden” which I helped to get up and running last year on the front lawn of the health department. We actually had asparagus crowns to plant this time! (swoon) Ah… the promise of asparagus. You put it in the ground, tend for 3 years, then set up your lawn chair on a sunny spring day and watch it grow. An asparagus patch is a luxury reserved for home owners, a luxury that I greatly admire. In fact I’ve never lived anywhere long enough to plant asparagus crowns and reap the benefits. That makes me a little sad.
We went for dinner at a very dear friend’s house. She’s a Mexican-Polish version of Nigella, a curvy little number with rich & glossy brunette locks and a passion for good food and wine. When she invited us a couple of weeks ago she asked if Snakes (since he’s still enjoying these waning days of unemployment) could bring the dessert, a lemon curd crepe cake. Oh mercy. Maybe it’s just because I find food to be the ultimate seduction, but I ask you, is there anything sexier than finding your man gently spreading lemon curd between delicate layers (15!) of crepes with an intensity generally reserved for motorcycle maintenance and studying the A-100 boards??? Makes me a little woozy just writing that.
As amazing as dessert clearly was, the M-P Nigella out did herself as usual. We had roasted garlicky leg of lamb with sauteed fiddleheads and mushrooms, with a polenta parmesan soufflé. Oh, but the attention to detail! Fiddleheads!!?! God I will miss these friends…
And tonight, the final “chef’s club”. The ladies head off for fresh pedicures and shopping while the guys prepare a 7 course meal. How on earth did I get so lucky??!