Sunday Is Meatball Day
Jun. 1st, 2003 09:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7Today Dave and I made about four tons of meatballs.
We went out shopping yesterday, and bought a number of items. 1: a new pair of shoes for me, since almost all my work shoes are damaged in some way. We tried on several $50 pairs of shoes and settled on a $7 pair of glorified flip-flops from Target. 2: new shoelaces for Dave, so his shoes can look even snazzier. 3. a pair of plates that said "Pingu" on them and had a picture of two cartoon penguins, and a little penguin's life story in French around the rim, because they were cute. Since it was the 3 for $10 rack, we bought a third item-- a bowl for Dave with a cartoony flounder on the bottom. 4. new soap for the bathroom, from Bath & Body Works. I made Dave sniff everything. We found one that wasn't too girly. It smells like lemons. He washed his hands and then spent the rest of the afternoon sniffing them.
5. A food processor.
The food processor was the reason for the trip, mainly. We had a fun time wandering the Palisades Mall-- we went there because the other mall close to us is the Westchester, which doesn't offer a single item under $20 in the entirety of its confines. It's the most overpriced, ridiculous shopping center I've ever been in, and reinforces my image of this area as not really all that livable despite its deliberate quaintness. It's a hard land, man. Hard.
Anyhow. The Palisades Mall is ugly and oversized, with unspeakable decor and all the shops that I actually want to shop in. (The Westchester is so proud of its Nordstroms. Now why the hell would I want to go to a version of J. C. Penney with higher prices and less selection, when I already have trouble finding anything I both want and can afford at Penney's? So I don't get it.) I didn't even find the Old Navy at Palisades, because it's too big. But I did get to romp in H&M for a while. Unfortunately everything they had was either size 8, size 10, or size 20. I'm not kidding; I searched the racks extensively for my size and there were only selections in those three sizes, except for the things that were sized small, medium, large, which were offered in: small. So... It was annoying.
But anyway. We had fun, even Dave, who hates the mall. We ate Greek food-- gyros-- and alternated the mind-numbing stores with stores Dave could enjoy.
So we used the food processor today, in our meatball marathon. It did chop up the onions really small, but not quite small enough for the freaking Italian meatballs, which fell apart anyway. Next time I'm just going to puree those little bastards into onion juice and see how the meatballs hold up THEN. Hmph.
We made three different kinds of meatballs, all from recipes in the Joy of Cooking, which remains the Most Awesome Cookbook Ever. First, I made Swedish meatballs, which involved the bizarre feeling of using a handmixer on about a pound and a half of ground meat. Mmm, whipped meat.
They came out really good, though. Mmm were they ever good. You realize that that white sauce they're served in isn't cream sauce; it's fat, flour, and beef stock. Yow. But sooooo gooooood.
The next meatballs were German meatballs, which Dave spent all freaking afternoon on, pretty much. They were complicated. He's also a slow cook. He'd helped me at the end of the Swedish meatballs, so I helped him out at the end of his. While he was struggling with the middle section of his, I made the Italian meatballs, and in so doing discovered that Dave had made too many breadcrumbs, and had had me chop up too much onion, initially. He'd been confused by the recipe which had also been for sauce, and had gotten confused with the amounts.
So I added the extra onions and breadcrumbs to the Italian meatballs, and added extra ground beef because we had some in the freezer. I ended up with A Hell Of A Lot Of Italian Meatballs. Some had to be sacrificed because they crumbled during the browning process, so I fed them to Dave who was actually sitting with his butt mostly in the sink, and claimed to be comfortable. Our kitchen's so small, there wasn't much of a choice in seating places. He was terribly hungry and kept watching my hands as I turned the meatballs, rather like an underfed puppy, so I gave him the broken meatballs rather than adding them to the sauce.
At the end of his German meatballs, there was a bunch of beef stock left over, so I made an extra batch of Swedish meatball sauce to pour over both those kinds of meatballs so they could freeze better. It never hurts to have extra sauce. Then Dave sent me to sit down, because my legs were tired, and he made me a meatball sub with the Italian meatballs I'd just finished making. My desire for a meatball sub was what had started this in the first place.
So we have one tub each frozen of Swedish, German, and Italian meatballs in sauce, and one tub each refrigerated. Yay! We'll eat well this week.
First, I... just totally lost my train of thought there. Hmm... what was I about to say?
Dude, it sucks to get old.
Umm....
Anyhow, I guess I'll close with a sappy and cute thought that I had last night as I was drifting off to sleep with my head in Dave's lap, a position I've grown to favor when lounging on the couch. My standard of living has generally improved so much over the last year that everything's been recentered several notches up in terms of how good "good" is and how bad "bad" is, when speaking of moods. I'm still a moody little psychopath, but the mood peaks and troughs are closer to a higher, happier center. I don't get so manic, and I don't get so depressed, because I'm fundamentally happy because while my life is in need of a lot of improvement in many areas, my fundamental, basic needs are being met. The biggest thing I'd been lacking my whole life, except for several brief timespans during my 'acquaintance' with Ursula (which was marked by a lot of far more difficult issues than I was equipped to face at that time) is companionship of the sort Dave provides. Someone who more or less understands me, and who enjoys making me happy in the same way that I enjoy making him happy. He's very low-maintenance, as well, and thus brings out the better, more reasonable side of me.
While you all go and throw up, I will quote the fortune cookie Dave opened a couple of nights ago: "Your romantic attachments will be neither logical nor rational."
Hee. Exactly.
We went out shopping yesterday, and bought a number of items. 1: a new pair of shoes for me, since almost all my work shoes are damaged in some way. We tried on several $50 pairs of shoes and settled on a $7 pair of glorified flip-flops from Target. 2: new shoelaces for Dave, so his shoes can look even snazzier. 3. a pair of plates that said "Pingu" on them and had a picture of two cartoon penguins, and a little penguin's life story in French around the rim, because they were cute. Since it was the 3 for $10 rack, we bought a third item-- a bowl for Dave with a cartoony flounder on the bottom. 4. new soap for the bathroom, from Bath & Body Works. I made Dave sniff everything. We found one that wasn't too girly. It smells like lemons. He washed his hands and then spent the rest of the afternoon sniffing them.
5. A food processor.
The food processor was the reason for the trip, mainly. We had a fun time wandering the Palisades Mall-- we went there because the other mall close to us is the Westchester, which doesn't offer a single item under $20 in the entirety of its confines. It's the most overpriced, ridiculous shopping center I've ever been in, and reinforces my image of this area as not really all that livable despite its deliberate quaintness. It's a hard land, man. Hard.
Anyhow. The Palisades Mall is ugly and oversized, with unspeakable decor and all the shops that I actually want to shop in. (The Westchester is so proud of its Nordstroms. Now why the hell would I want to go to a version of J. C. Penney with higher prices and less selection, when I already have trouble finding anything I both want and can afford at Penney's? So I don't get it.) I didn't even find the Old Navy at Palisades, because it's too big. But I did get to romp in H&M for a while. Unfortunately everything they had was either size 8, size 10, or size 20. I'm not kidding; I searched the racks extensively for my size and there were only selections in those three sizes, except for the things that were sized small, medium, large, which were offered in: small. So... It was annoying.
But anyway. We had fun, even Dave, who hates the mall. We ate Greek food-- gyros-- and alternated the mind-numbing stores with stores Dave could enjoy.
So we used the food processor today, in our meatball marathon. It did chop up the onions really small, but not quite small enough for the freaking Italian meatballs, which fell apart anyway. Next time I'm just going to puree those little bastards into onion juice and see how the meatballs hold up THEN. Hmph.
We made three different kinds of meatballs, all from recipes in the Joy of Cooking, which remains the Most Awesome Cookbook Ever. First, I made Swedish meatballs, which involved the bizarre feeling of using a handmixer on about a pound and a half of ground meat. Mmm, whipped meat.
They came out really good, though. Mmm were they ever good. You realize that that white sauce they're served in isn't cream sauce; it's fat, flour, and beef stock. Yow. But sooooo gooooood.
The next meatballs were German meatballs, which Dave spent all freaking afternoon on, pretty much. They were complicated. He's also a slow cook. He'd helped me at the end of the Swedish meatballs, so I helped him out at the end of his. While he was struggling with the middle section of his, I made the Italian meatballs, and in so doing discovered that Dave had made too many breadcrumbs, and had had me chop up too much onion, initially. He'd been confused by the recipe which had also been for sauce, and had gotten confused with the amounts.
So I added the extra onions and breadcrumbs to the Italian meatballs, and added extra ground beef because we had some in the freezer. I ended up with A Hell Of A Lot Of Italian Meatballs. Some had to be sacrificed because they crumbled during the browning process, so I fed them to Dave who was actually sitting with his butt mostly in the sink, and claimed to be comfortable. Our kitchen's so small, there wasn't much of a choice in seating places. He was terribly hungry and kept watching my hands as I turned the meatballs, rather like an underfed puppy, so I gave him the broken meatballs rather than adding them to the sauce.
At the end of his German meatballs, there was a bunch of beef stock left over, so I made an extra batch of Swedish meatball sauce to pour over both those kinds of meatballs so they could freeze better. It never hurts to have extra sauce. Then Dave sent me to sit down, because my legs were tired, and he made me a meatball sub with the Italian meatballs I'd just finished making. My desire for a meatball sub was what had started this in the first place.
So we have one tub each frozen of Swedish, German, and Italian meatballs in sauce, and one tub each refrigerated. Yay! We'll eat well this week.
First, I... just totally lost my train of thought there. Hmm... what was I about to say?
Dude, it sucks to get old.
Umm....
Anyhow, I guess I'll close with a sappy and cute thought that I had last night as I was drifting off to sleep with my head in Dave's lap, a position I've grown to favor when lounging on the couch. My standard of living has generally improved so much over the last year that everything's been recentered several notches up in terms of how good "good" is and how bad "bad" is, when speaking of moods. I'm still a moody little psychopath, but the mood peaks and troughs are closer to a higher, happier center. I don't get so manic, and I don't get so depressed, because I'm fundamentally happy because while my life is in need of a lot of improvement in many areas, my fundamental, basic needs are being met. The biggest thing I'd been lacking my whole life, except for several brief timespans during my 'acquaintance' with Ursula (which was marked by a lot of far more difficult issues than I was equipped to face at that time) is companionship of the sort Dave provides. Someone who more or less understands me, and who enjoys making me happy in the same way that I enjoy making him happy. He's very low-maintenance, as well, and thus brings out the better, more reasonable side of me.
While you all go and throw up, I will quote the fortune cookie Dave opened a couple of nights ago: "Your romantic attachments will be neither logical nor rational."
Hee. Exactly.
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no subject
Date: 2003-06-01 07:02 pm (UTC)