Look inside

For some reason, I have recently been finding new and creative ways to enclose my food. Some of it is enclosed for cooking purposes only and some of it is enclosed to eat.

Last weekend, I wanted a little of each. My first round began with a trip to the Farmer's Market. Fish for dinner is what was listed on my list, so I headed to my favorite fishmonger and got a lovely piece of Dolphin. No, not Flipper
Then I came home and had to decide what to do with it.

So, feeling a little adventuresome, I tried Tikinxic, also known as Yucatan-style grilled mahi-mahi. What makes it Yucatcany, you ask? It is cooked in Banana Leaves. Banana Leaves were pretty easy to find (found at the 2nd store I went to) though a little pricey- $5.99-which I guess isn't so much considering how many I got.

I then made a recado rojo for the fish and wrapped it up and sent it to the grill. HP made some zippy salsa to go along with it and we put it along side some couscous. We are ethnically diverse at the dinner table. We ate in the yard, under the little baby grapelings with a glass of cheap white wine. It was lovely, and a lot of fun.

My next attempt at swaddling my food, was sadly less successful. It is summer, and we had almost a week with temperatures enough above 90 to reach the top of the double digits. (Today is a "chilly 87") So I thought, what better time to make summer rolls. However, the grocery store gods have a different plan for me. I have now been to 6 grocery stores, 2 farmer's markets, a couple specialty stores and a gourmet shop, but can not find rice paper anywhere. Apparently, international doesn't mean what I think it does, but I have found all sorts of interesting food items out there. Unfortunately, I don't have a camera phone, so you'll just have to wonder about that.

I do have some pictures of the Yucatany fish, but right now I'm having problems uploading to flickr. So you'll just have to wonder about that too!

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Out of the kitchen & hangin' on the porch

I really haven't spent much time in the kitchen the past couple weeks. We cooked up enough stuff to get us through MIL & Rent tech (which I was sewing my fingers to the bone) and I made dinner last night. (A more-than-palatable stew of turkey thigh, tomatillos, peppers and various other things. Which was very enjoyable, though HP claims his was better. Maybe I should just give up cooking?)

Any way, I spent a few lovely hours on my porch yesterday. The weather is probably considered "Indian Summer" with temperate breezes and bright sunshine. After working until the wee hours of the morning, then driving home I was mostly allowed to sleep in. HP tried valiantly to convince me that I should be awake at 8 when he got up, I chose 11 as a much better decision. After determining that I had little to contribute to the world at that particular time, I climbed into the big papasan (also known as a mamasan chair with a book and relaxed.
The papasan is on the porch. About a month or two ago, HP & I, in a strange fit of productivity, cleaned up the porch, repainted the floor, touched up the walls, cleaned the papasan cushion and generally made the porch the refuge it should be. HP even increased the plant population up there so we now have a fern, a spiderplant, a "dish garden," and air plant the ginger plant and the mother-in-laws-tongue. (You'll have to look up any thing you don't know. I'm not in the mood to search)(sorry) The furniture on the porch includes the aforementioned papasan, a teak coffee table that is older than me and is prone to spilling drinks if you aren't careful, an old rattan reclining chair that belonged to the aged aunt of a guy I knew, a wicker rocker, and an hammock chair. the old hammock that has been in the family almost as long as the teak coffee table hangs in the corner and poster sized prints of Mattisse and Picasso decorate the walls.
I really should take a picture. I could have saved my self a lot of words.
Anyway, I relaxed on the porch, the breeze was blowing, I had a book in hand. (A Phillip Craig Martha's Vineyard mystery if you must know)and I leaned back. There were no car alarms going off. The screaming children were safely packed away in various hallowed walls of education. The people-who-try-to-drive-big-trucks-with-obnoxious-back-up-songs-and/or-tones were not making their frequent, feeble and repetitive attempts to parallel park, it was good. Then softly, I heard the sounds of the strings of a chamber orchestra. It was quiet and soothing (and yes, recorded not live) and they were playing Braham's Lullaby.
All was right with the world, at least during those few moments on the porch.

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