Start your digestive juices rolling.  My sister-in-law Sandie and I didn’t waste any time getting into the jolly fat part of the season.  We decided to try some new recipes, largely based on butter.

“Where are the roasted red peppers?” asked Sandie.

“I didn’t know you could buy peppers already roasted,” I said, exposing my kitchen naivety.  “I bought two fresh ones.”

“I’ve never roasted peppers before.”

“Me, either,” I said, running the to computer.  I Googled “How to roast a red pepper.”

“What does it say?” shouted Sandie from the kitchen.

“One.  Start by washing the peppers and removing the stickers,” I quoted.  “Did I get the wrong peppers?” I asked.  “Mine don’t have any stickers.”

“Store stickers,” Sandie laughed.

I thought they meant thorns.  That’s like using Google Maps and the directions start by telling you how to get out of your own driveway.  Some things should go unspoken.

Roasted pepper, artichoke dip, and spinach.  Toasted Bruschetta bread, lightly buttered with garlic.  Couscous salad with arugula, corn, sunflower seeds, and currants.  Pot roast, potatoes & carrots.  Italian Cream Cake. Even the batter was to die for.

“Is the cake too warm to frost?” asked Sandie, touching the top lightly with her fingertips.  “I’ll just put a dollop on to see.”

“We’ve been cooking for so long today,” I said, “we’re talking culinary.  Here I’ve got…”

“A dolloper?” she asked.

“No,” I said, and pulled out a long frosting knife.

“Oh, I want a dolloper.”

“I just have the generic dolloper,”

“What’s that?”

“A spoon,” I laughed.  “Do you know where I left the potato I was peeling?  That’s the fifth one I’d lost in the last few minutes.”

“You’re like Hansel and Gretel,” Sandie observed.  “You keep getting sidetracked and leaving a trail of potatoes.”

“How much butter should I put in the dip?” I asked.

“Oh, don’t measure it,” she said.  “You can’t go wrong with butter.  Add a little whipping cream.” 

“Here taste this,” I said, sticking a finger of good stuff into my husband’s mouth.

“I like being the tester,” he admitted.  “If I flop over dead, don’t serve it to anyone else.”

“Oh, we will,” I said, “but we’ll be selective.”

“Do you have one of these?” Sandie interrupted, opening and closing her fingers and thumb, like a pair of tongs.

“Sure,” I said.  Then I took opened and closed my fingers and thumb just like her.  “I have one of those, too.” 

“She means a baster,” her daughter interpreted. 

I opened the drawer and to my surprise pulled out a mini-baster, but every time I sucked up the liquid in the pot roast, it dripped back in.  “My baster has a leak,” I laughed.

After a fulfilling, or was that filling, day, we decided to do it again next month.  There’s not many activities that outrank a 3,000 calorie day.

Italian Cream Cake

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1. The cook left ^[12]
2. Bound for the son ^[13]
3. I killed the Pillsbury doughboy ^[14]
4. Everything’s coming up berries ^[15]
5. The forgotten holiday ^[16]

3 Comments To "Red pepper stickers"

#1 Comment By Shannon On December 8, 2011 @ 9:05 am

#2 Comment By Grandma Kc On December 8, 2011 @ 10:14 am

#3 Comment By Valerie On December 10, 2011 @ 10:03 am