This isn't actually Ivy, it's the DH. Today I said to the Light Of My Life and Desire Of My Days (LOML for short) that if I made the dinner I didn't see why I shouldn't post to the blog, and she said she didn't either, so here I am.
Last night's dinner was the dad special, i.e. hamburgers made indoors on the stove instead of outdoors on the grill because the newspaper wouldn't light, which tells you something about the weather we've been having. The hamburger was from Roy's, the buns from the Kernel Bakery and both were good. They were shared by me and the Light and our horsey daughter, the Lockmeister having pledged every evening of her life (two weeks of it anyway) to running the light board at Andy's for their performace of Phantom of the Opera. I'm not exactly sure what she had for dinner--she seems to live on starlight and dew. And protein bars.
Oh, we had salad too, just so there was something green on the table. The mom special: baby lettuce mix, craisins, blue cheese crumble, balsamic vinegar, olive oil. I might have made those french fries if the Light were sharing her recipie but she's not.
For dessert we had Bread Pudding Chez Hélène topped with Crème Angalise--or maybe it was just vanilla custard. Either way it was... okay. Normally Bread Pudding Chez Hélène is what Hera feeds Zeus when she wants to get him in a good mood. It uses a can of evaporated milk, lots of vanilla, and halfway through the cooking you stir it up so all the carmelized bits from around the edge get mixed all through and its all unctuous and caramelized and wonderful.
But I think if you're using frozen bread (I was) you need more liquid... and if you're using unsalted butter (I was) you have to add a bit of salt even if the recipe doesn't call for it. Ah, well. They say that the original meaning of "sin" is to miss the mark; forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.