Head Wound

Staple remover and staple (I have the other staple somewhere in my purse and am planning to produce it “accidentally” during staff meeting tomorrow if things get slow).

I went to the doctor today to get the staples removed.

I have really enjoyed my interactions with medical personnel during this whole head wound experience. Everyone I interacted with got right on board with my snickering self-deprecation, from the intake people to the stapling doctor to my regular doc today. As he removed the staples, he told me I would be able to pass through airport security now. I told him that was good but I was kind of bummed about the Halloween possibilities I was missing out on. “Well, you really would’ve had to staple your forehead for that,” he pointed out, before adding that I should not take that as a suggestion.

(Side note about my doctor, his “hold” message includes, along with the usual recorded boilerplate about my call being important to him, the comment, “I promise we are not standing around drinking coffee and cracking jokes.” The lunchtime message asks callers to call back at 1 p.m., “when my well-fed staff will be better able to assist you.” He could misdiagnose me with prostate cancer and I would STILL think he was awesome.)

After he removed the staples (totally painless, in case you’re wondering), I asked if I could keep them. He made me promise that I would not let Eliza play with them, then boxed up the staples AND staple remover for me. So, if you should happen to need a stple removed from your head, let me know.

***

Bruce

I will NOT be attending the opening night of Bruce Springsteen’s world tour tomorrow with Jim. Babysitting was proving a challenge, but I probably would’ve tried harder to solve the problem or taken one of my friends up on her offer to help, had we not managed to snag floor seat tickets for the Nov. 18 show in Boston for me, my sister, and one of my friends. That’s right — in two months, I am going to have my very first overnight sans bebe AND sans husband, EVER. And I love them both more than life itself, blablabla but can I just tell you that I am beside myself with anticip…… ATION?

This was actually Jim’s idea. When he learned Auntie Johanna was coming to visit for Thanksgiving, he looked up the Bruce shows and suggested we do this. I made the obligatory, “Are you SURE you don’t mind?” kinds of comments and then accepted quickly before he could change his mind.

***

Anniversary

There’s a line in the chorus of Bruce Springsteen’s torchy seduction song Drive All Night that goes: “I swear I’ll drive all night just to buy you some shoes.”

I love the song and this funny/desperate declaration is one of the main reasons. It’s the sort of demented thing you might catch yourself thinking if you’re that crazy in love. This song is MUCH more popular (by, like, orders of magnitude) among female fans than male fans. Jim knows I number myself among its fans, and so I do not think it is a coincidence that for our 5th anniversary, he gave me a gift certificate to my favorite shoe store.

I decided to go with the Scotch idea and bought him a sampler set of three, including one that was new to him. He was quite pleased.

We went to dinner at Circa, for those of you who live within driving distance of me, and I can highly recommend it if you have a reason to splurge. I had a venison appetizer — seared, with butternut squash and a hazelnut cream sauce — that was so good that on my trip to the restroom, I poked my head in through the order window of the kitchen to thank/gush embarrassingly at the staff. I would probably go vegetarian or maybe even vegan if bambis and pigs didn’t taste so good. I do feel ever so slightly guilty every time Eliza watches Bambi and they shoot his mom.

***

Apple Progress Report

2 more green apples down — we are within sight of the end.

One of our friends gave Jim a $37 bottle of wine for helping him move, so we decided to keep celebrating the anniversary and crack it open Sunday night.

This unprecendented level of wine demanded that I bring my A game in the kitchen. I made sweet-potato gnocchi with a mushroom, apple, and chard cream sauce with vegan sausage. That last bit was supposed to read “smoked kielbasa” but when I opened it, it had a weird ticky-tacky texture that did not bode well for our intestinal health. The vegan sausage did OK, though — it’s nicely spiced but subtle enough that it blended well with the other flavors.

Recipes:

Sweet Potato Gnocchi

2 large (1 lb each) sweet potatoes
Wholewheat flour
2 eggyolks
nutmeg
salt, pepper

Nuke sweet potatoes until they’re thoroughly cooked
Peel, then mash
Add wholewheat flour, yolks, some fresh nutmeg and pepper and salt. I have no idea how much flour, just keep going until the mixture stops sticking to your hands while you’re kneading it. Roll it into a worm about as fat as your thumb, then cut rounds about 3/4 inch wide. Press a fork into the side.

Toss into boiling, salted water. When they float, they’re done.

Sauce:

Butter
Truffle oil
1/2 cup shallots
2 green apples, cored and diced, peel on
10 oz. sliced mushrooms (I used baby bellas)
Organic chicken stock
Sage, stems trimmed off and sliced
Light cream
Several leaves of chard, cut into thin strips
Thingie of vegan sausage, cut into slices, then quarters

In a pan with a little butter and truffle oil, sautee sausage. Transfer to plate, set aside.

In a big pan, melt 2 TBSP of butter and add 3 TBSP white truffle oil. Sautee 1/2 cup shallots. When they start to brown, add apples, then mushrooms. Once everything gets soft, pour in about 2 cups chicken stock and add sage. Let it reduce, then pour in a quarter cup of cream, stir everything around so the cream distributes nicely. Toss chard on top, let it wilt, then stir under. Add sausage, then gnocchi to warm up again, serve. Try not to eat the entire pan in one sitting.

Eliza liked the gnocchi a lot. Until she realized they were getting the way of her Tigger-outfit-wearing, and then she got all shouty with us.

We placated her with Sarah’s cake, of which we all had three or four pieces. And then we posed for the illustration for “Gluttony” that will be appearing in the next edition of the dictionary, the end!