My sister came up to Racine to visit last weekend for our Winterfest/Snow Sculpting Contest. Her mission was to cram as much Holiday Cheer into me as she could in two days.
We ran off to see how far the snow sculptures had come along. It was bitterly cold out, but there was a good showing of artists and observers in Monument Square. We walked around "oohing and ahhing," our appreciation and wishing the teams good luck. It was thirsty work. So we headed to Shillings for a pint.
As we entered, a cheerful blonde woman sitting at the bar greeted us with a bright "Hello." We thought she was the official welcoming committee, she was so enthusiastic. Introductions were made all around, drinks purchased and we began getting to know each other. So, "Hello" to Jason, Drew, Tom, and the lovely Diane, and thanks for the drinks and best wishes for the New Year. What a great group of folks they were. We hated to quit their company, but our pot roast and home-made noodles needed warming up. Actually, the roast needed warming up and the noodles needed to be extruded, then boiled.
How is it that I can make scrumptious sauces, breads, cakes, cookies, rack of lamb, pies, curries, gravies and many other things, but the perfect pot roast eludes me? That Saturday night I decided the answer was, it just isn't my dish. You cannot do everything, for Pete's sake! Today, I proffer a different consideration. Perhaps I simply like to roast the old fashioned way -- to wit, in the oven. I believe that I am not the best of slowcooker cooks. Chili, soups, stews, yes, but obviously not pot roast. When I asked my sister how she liked her dry roast she replied,
"It's fine."
Fine? Fine? That is a word a good cook never wants to hear. Fine is like saying, it will "make do." The noodles, although not in the same league as my mom and grandmas, were a good linguine. The gravy was rich and spicy, but the pot roast itself was yuck! I am sticking to rack of lamb, pork chops Moroccan style, poached salmon, or any of my other wonderful recipes that elicit words like, delicious, fantastic, etc. Life is too short to make a mediocre dinner! So, I Thank God, the bread was good! (As did Joanie.) We ate quickly, well as quickly as we could chew the dry meat, and decided dessert would be beers at the pub.
Once at Coasters, on Main street, we began building onto our good cheer and frivolity. We shall not discuss Joanie's first brew. Trust me, it is a story better left untold. By our second round of beers we were off to a rip-roaring start on huge holiday cheer! ;>) Some of my friends had started staggering (ah, no pun intended) in and I introduced them to my sister with pride. The evening went by in a blur of fun, flirting, and song. The old jukebox was rocking that place! Of course, we closed the joint down and walked back to my house having enjoyed a great evening together.
On Sunday we barely got to the sculptures before sunset, and we missed the voting entirely. We were amazed at how much beauty had transpired since the evening before. The artists all did a great job, and we admired their labor hugely. Unfortunately, we have no idea who won first place. Ah well, that doesn't really matter, we enjoyed all the tableau and thought they should all win something! We did however, regret that neither one of us had been smart enough to bring our cameras. (Go ahead, roll your eyes, I am!)
As my sister dropped me off so she could head back to Illinois, we discussed the fun we had, happy and chuckling at our remembrances of the evening before. I apologized for the not good pot roast. She offered some ideas about future attempts, and thanked me for my sisterly hospitality, and said,
"But the bread was darn good!" Amen to that sister dear, amen to that. Thank God the bread was good!
