Late Sunday afternoon, I drove across the river to shop for dinner ingredients and some fruit for lunches this week. The larder was looking a bit sparse. It was either go shop or eat another grilled cheese and/or egg sandwich. M and I had just talked on the phone, earlier in the day about wanting a real meal. She was thinking Thanksgiving like. I opted for meat and potatoes.
At the meat counter I asked the butcher for two petite steaks (on sale). Not too big. It’s funny about meat. Sometimes it actually turns me and I can’t even think about eating it, and other times I am actually craving a serving. It was one of those days of wanting it. Not thinking about it having a face.
Came home and sautéed an organic yellow onion in some Amish butter and then sliced up a box of fresh mushrooms. Baby Romaine salad with Steve’s favorite brown Clamato tomato( I swear they look chocolate) and a drizzle of olive oil and red wine vinegar. Garlic smashed Russets.
After I plated the food, I used the phone to capture the dinner. Feeling ready for the start of a new week, fortified.
We were at the neighbors’ farm in Hardy, VA this past weekend. They graciously allowed the grandchildren to pet the baby pig and the baby turkeys.
Anna asked what the pig’s name was- ”Doesn’t have one.”
The baby mini-mules and their miniature horses don’t have to worry but then again, they have NAMES!
Bob the Mule. Heart the Horse.
The egg-layers are spared.
Oh yes, they have a couple of ducks. And their names? Christmas and New Years.
The second image? Those are a couple of (seven pounds apiece) pork butts that Pap smoked for the Paleo crowd. The veg branch of the family didn’t come this past weekend. I don’t think the meat had names.