Saturday, January 23, 2010


I'm still in the preparations for tomorrow's brunch, but I took a minute for a big glass of iced tea and a look-in on some of my blogging friends.

Chris went for the last of the groceries this morning, and came home with Little Smokies and Sociables and Nova salmon and a big platter of cheese, none of which were on the list, as well as the produce I'd sent him for at the last possible moment. The broccoli just came out of the steamer, into an ice-bath and a baggie in the fridge with a couple of paper towels; the grapes are washed and bagged, as are the cherry tomatoes, the cucumber, the celery (cut into crispy flaunts for garnishing the Marys tomorrow), the water is coming to a boil for the snow peas I just strung, and the pineapple and cantaloupe await cutting into neat golden cubes, to mingle chill and sweet in the big trifle bowl tomorrow with the grapes and lots of whole strawberries. One of those simply Southern cream-cheese-and-marshmallow cream dips awaits.

All the etouffee ingredients have simmered with their bay leaf and Chachere's and L&P into a lovely fragrance, and will chill overnight before being brought back to a boil before adding the three pounds of shrimp to pinken in the glow beneath the lid.

The quiche batter, save for the broccoli and grape tomato slices, is chilling, the artichoke dip ditto, in a twin Tupper, and the jalapeno rolls are snugged into a long flat one, to be cut into eighths tomorrow and garnished with shiny fat peppers on a green tray.

But what we won't be serving, I suppose, because that's just a meat overload, are ribs. Chris came hopefully home with three small racks of babybacks, all Frenched within an inch of a chef's knife. They look like something done by a Michel or an Henri, for a five-star dinner, rather than by a Hoosier manning the counter at Sam's. We'll try some of the ribs one night next week.

I never. I JUST NEVER. Frenched pork ribs. Don't that just Post your Toasties?

Bonjour, Y'all!!


Southern Lady said...

Your menu makes my mouth water, Rachel. I know it's going to be a lovely brunch and I envy your guests.

Can't wait to hear all about it.

Tonja said...

Oh, I hope it was fabulous! There's no way it couldn't be!

Kim S. said...

The idea of Frenched pork ribs made me smile and smile!! I would love to see a picture - I can't get it in my head. I thought of you this morning as we were buried in packing paper and Mike was asking me "where does this go?" for the 700th time! Thinking about etouffee and the quiche and your perfect and warm hospitality. It's 11pm now and I hope you have your feet propped up and are snacking on leftovers (the best part) and reading Gladys.

racheld said...

It was lovely chaos, with everybody arriving at once and talking all at once and gathering upstairs for drinks and snacks, then down into the dining area downstairs, where Chris carved the ham and the biscuits were just coming out of the oven.

The pictures are few, I'm afraid---everyone was having such a good time, we didn't stop to make many.

And Gladys awaits me on my bedside table, as she has in various books the past few weeks---I'm on book four of the five I had reserved at the library---what a lovely legacy she left us, of warm cozy fires and peaceful snowfalls and those wonderful dogs.

I hope to post details of the party tomorrow, after I finish the putting-aways and the straighten-ups. I'm TARD, Y'all!

Keetha said...

It sounds wonderful! I can smell those fresh-baked biscuits. So glad it went well. I knew it would!

You rest up and savor the after glow.

Mrs. G. said...

Little smokies were my favorite party treat as a kid. They don't sell them in Seattle. Can you believe that?

racheld said...

We had two big black skillets full, Keetha---there were only four left, I think. After glow it is.

And what a treat to have a visit from our Derfwad Doyenne---Our own Mrs. G., from The Women's Colony.