These
big beauties were worthy of Mother’s fluted bowl---the one which held apples
and oranges all Winter in the closed-off red Dining Room, and surprised you
pleasantly with a whiff of Christmas any time you opened the door on that
frigid air. These were the size of a
good hefty lemon, and weighed several ounces apiece. As vegetables go, these got all the beauty
genes, shining and tight-packed and perfect, and I set them out on the table just to look at for a while.
We’ve
been longing for a Spring Lunch for weeks now, with pastels and pink ham and a
sunshiny table in the windows, so when I happened upon this never-finished post
from last year, it just called out to me.
All
washed and dried and cut, ready for tossing with some good olive oil and sea
salt:
Perfectly
roasted by Caro, all gleaming curves and those lovely browned sides all chewy
with a gentle char---makes my tongue curl just remembering. Right now, she has three big bags of cauliflower in her fridge, all cut and ready to roast for the weekend---she's promised to do a dish for a friend, and the rest is for our St. Patrick's Day dinner.
Whatever
day this was, we’d taken out the “nut cups”---a set of those little pink fluty
waxed paper cups from the Fifties, ubiquitous at every luncheon, coke party,
and fancy “banquet” of our high school years.
These came inside a small divided wire basket---the only thing I think I’ve
ever ordered on e-Bay. I bought it mostly
for the cups, for they remind me of
carefree Birthday Parties, with the waffly white paper tablecloths printed
in stylized pastel cakes and streamers. Just opening that flat packet and shaking out the billows of crisp paper onto a table set out in the shade---Oh, My. With the anticipation of a white Birthday Cake with pink roses, Versailles had no such important events.
Tiny baby Yukons, scrubbed and pillowed with a mixture of sour cream, softened butter and salt, with a sprinkling of sharp Cheddar.
Chris’
grilled ham with pineapple sauce, the sprouts and potatoes served on the pastel
“chop plates,” with a little side dish of slaw and a few goodies from the
relish tray.
Anyone know what these chop plates are? I so love their shining smooth faces, with the little handles setting them off. They're slightly bigger than a dinner plate, with no name on the back.
We’ve
been shirtsleeves for a few days now, and I’m READY for a dose of SPRING---how
about you?
Linking
to Beverly’s
PINK SATURDAY.
Wow! That some large Brussels Sprouts! I had some of those for lunch today, Yummy, but not as good looking as yours.
ReplyDeleteThe pink plate looks like Melamine. Not sure about the spelling.
I think winter is over here, too. Jonquils are popping up everywhere!
Beautiful color green, and can just taste them so right for last of the dull winter days.
ReplyDeleteIt's raining here; I fully expect the trees to start falling down from such wet soil this winter. Be that as it may, the meal looks scrumptious.
ReplyDeleteI like Brussels Sprouts but never saw any that looked this good. Glad you are enjoying nice weather. I trust ours is on the way.
ReplyDeleteHello dear Rachel, My favorite vegetable is Brussels Sprouts. I have never had them cut up and roasted like this.
ReplyDeletegreen is the perfect color for the St. Patrick's Day celebrations to come. My goodness Rachel, no one describes the deliciousness of food and gracious traditions like you. One can truly imagine being there and eating all the goodness. My daughter-in-law says, "Presentation is everything."
I AM ready for a dose of spring,
Love, Jeanne
Ooooooh, Brussels sprouts! I love them so much and those are beauties! For a vegetable averse person, they are an odd thing to love, but I do. Growing up with an English stepdad did it for me. I do mine the way that my English family does – a gentle steam, then split and a quick sauté in hot butter. Lots of salt and pepper, and sometimes a few sesame seeds (my own embellishment). Caro’s roasted ones look fabulous. The first meal I made for Mike was, at that time, my only claim to culinary fame – a Sunday roast: roast beef, roast potatoes, Yorkshire pudding and Brussels sprouts. Though he enthused about the meal, he was too polite to admit that he detested sprouts. At his first bite, he looked shocked and allowed as how he’d been wondering how he’d get them down. He loved them and even told his mother that she should find out how I’d cooked them, so that she could do it my way. To her everlasting credit, she didn’t hate me. She found out how I did them and does them that way now.
ReplyDelete