It's been a whirlwind of cooking around the ol' Chez today. A lovely, rare warm day that we didn't want to waste by being productive, so we just laid around, sluglike. Wandering through the kitchen, though, I noticed some pears our friend John had brought over were at the very peak and demanding to be dealt with. What else can you do with insolent pears except poach them?
Scouring the bar only turned up the dreg ends of a bottle of white wine and one of brandy.
Further, more determined digging turned up an odd bottle of Kirschwasser (cherry brandy) and a tall skinny one of pear liqueur. How do these wind up in one's cupboards? I promise you, I never went out shopping for a bottle of pear liqueur in my life. And yet, this afternoon it certainly turned out to be handy.
I'm pretty sure there are no recipes that include the directions "Root around in your liquor cabinet until you find enough of anything to cover the pears and then go to town." Ha. A little cinnamon, a little nutmeg and voila, deliciousness.
Sloppy, but yummy plates.
We're having friends for lunch on Sunday, which is also supposed to be hot, so I've made vichyssoise, a dish I can cook, but never spell. It's just potatoes and leeks with cream, and I went a tad bit long on the leeks, but it seems to be terribly tasty.
What is it with leeks anyway? I often cook with them, but every time, I act like we have just met. "Perhaps these attractive vegetables will not be filled with grit and dirt and a quick rinse will suffice in cleaning them," I think. Fooled again. So tomorrow we will sit down to a lovely luncheon of potato and leek and cream and dirt soup.