Thursday, December 23, 2010

Christmas Eve Eve tradition #2: Lobster Stew

Actually this is technically a Christmas Eve tradition - the eating of it, anyway - but the making of it should happen the day before.  It has to be cooked very slowly and gently and then it has to sit, you see.  Something wonderful and miraculous (which my children are too young to know about) happens overnight.

First, get half a dozen or eight (depending on the size) lobsters.  I like soft-shell lobsters because hard-shell shells are really hard on the old hands.  (At this point you can choose to introduce the lobsters to your housepets.  Or not.)

Boil a couple of inches of salted water in a big water-bath canner, then plunge the lobsters – two or three at a time – in headfirst.  Cover and cook for 15 minutes.  Remove the lobsters set aside until they're cool enough to handle.

Note:  Lobsters do not scream while being cooked.  They don’t have vocal chords or respiratory systems, both of which are required in order to phonate.  That noise people talk about – which I have never ever EVER heard in many years of cooking lobster – is steam escaping from the shell.

Pick the meat, cut larger pieces into chunks and set aside.  

Confession:  Everything up through this part is messy.  No pictures.  Camera + steam + lobster juice = bad combination.

Before:




After:


Now melt a cup of butter in a stockpot, then stir in the lobster chunks.  Simmer on low heat for ten minutes, stirring frequently.  


While the lobster is getting to know the butter, heat three quarts of half and half in a separate pot.  It should get hot but not too hot. 


This is my secret ingredient.  


Dissolve a good-sized glop (about 3 tablespoons) of lobster base in the cream.

Over very low heat, slowly stir the hot cream into the buttery lobster.  Season, then put in the fridge uncovered (lest it curdle as it cools) and forget about it until the next day.

 

Reheat gently and serve with oyster crackers, salad, and biscuits.

Here's the recipe written out:

Lobster Stew

6 1-1/4 lb. new shell lobsters
1 cup butter
3 qts half and half
3 tablespoons lobster base
Salt & pepper to taste
Paprika (optional)

Steam, cool and pick the lobsters.  Cut large chunks of meat into bite-sized pieces.

In a 5-quart stock pot, melt the butter.  Gently cook the lobster meat in the butter for about 10 minutes.  

While lobster is warming in the butter, in a separate large saucepan heat half & half and lobster base until it is hot but not simmering.

Over low heat, gradually stir the hot cream mixture into lobster, stirring constantly.  Season with salt and pepper to taste and add paprika for color if desired.

Remove from heat and allow to cool, uncovered, then cover and refrigerate overnight.

Reheat gently, uncovered. 

8 servings.

Christmas Eve Eve tradition

Let's call this one "Introduction of the Animals" or "Inter-species Fellowship." 


It has everything to do with the spirit of the season and nothing at all to do with mildly antagonizing the cats.


And nothing at all to do with harassing the lobster.

The lobster has long since come to terms with his fate - he is about to give his all for lobster stew.  Watch this space.

First real snow of the season

Winter can uncomfortable and dangerous but breathtakingly lovely.  The kids moan about shoveling and hauling firewood one minute, and begging the Flying Spaghetti Monster for a snow day the next.  The meteorologists insist on a total accumulation of one inch even as there are three on the ground and it's still falling thickly (which is the situation my stepfather and I found ourselves in driving home from Boston last night at 40 mph).

Earth stood hard as irony.... 

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Christmas topiaries

This weekend we have made gingerbread men, peppermint bark, peanut butter bars, toffee cookies, shortbread, gumbo, roast beef, and topiaries.  I can't wait to get back to work so I can sit down.

Here are the topiaries.  Started out a couple of weeks ago by painting some terra cotta flowerpots with a gold wash.




This afternoon we cut florist foam to fit in the pots.


By "we" of course I do mean "the help."  I adore compulsory labor.  Should have had more children.  They did a bang-up job decorating cookies today, with the exception of the anatomically correct gingerbread man, but that's a story for another time. 

I digress.

We took a couple of small Styrofoam cones and one larger one, and put three cinnamon sticks in the base of each to make a trunk.



Planted in the pot, with a healthy glop of hot glue in the (probably vain) hope that the thing will stay together.


Now the balsam tips (salvaged from the bottom branches we trimmed from the Christmas tree).




Finished with moss around the base and the top, with a red bead "star" because I didn't know quite what else to do.


I had every intention of gluing more red beads and small pinecones on the trees but ran out of glue cartridges, so we're calling it the simple look.



Allez!


The Heir had a fencing meet yesterday.

 He's been fencing since he was about 10.  He likes it because 1) it's different - no one else in his school does it; 2) it involves weaponry; and 3) the sport's physical and mental requirements suit him. 

We have to get him all the way to Belfast once or twice a week for lessons, but whatevs.

That's him in the bug hat.

Here he is without the bug hat.

 

It's really called a face mask.  The rest of the kit consists of lamé, jacket, underarm protector, glove, knickers, socks, special shoes, body cord, and electric foil.  I have to replace one of these things approximately every fifteen minutes to keep up with the growth rate.  Do you see the size of those feet?

Anyhoo, back to the fencing meet. 

The Heir's weapon of choice is foil (as opposed to épée or saber.  If you are truly interested in further explanation, a good overview is posted here.)



 These things go on...



...and on... 

Note:  I will never understand what's going on during these matches, any more than I will eventually comprehend exactly what "offsides" is in soccer.  Too many things happening too fast.


 

...and on.


It's hard work - not just physically but mentally, because there's so much strategy and concentration involved.  It's not called "physical chess" for nothing.


By the time it's over, the kids are well and truly pooped.

 
The guy in the black is who keeps showing up in the pictures is John Krauss, who runs the Down East School of Fencing.   Great guy, fantastic instructor.  He loves the sport and really gets the kids.

Another note:  kids who fence are really great.  I say this objectively, of course.  I will refrain from going into a deep psychological musing about the type of person who is drawn to a sport that combines intellectual quickness, discipline, rigorous physical activity, respect, tradition, protocol, and the ability to adhere to strict rules, other than to say there's a marked difference from certain other sports.


Here are yesterday's winners, who have gone from beating the crap out of each other with swords to best buds in two seconds flat.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Red sky in the morning

A red sunrise portends unsettled weather, while a red sunset assures calm.  Hence the old adage "red sky in the morning, sailors take warning; red sky at night, sailors' delight."

The sunrise this morning was blazing orange, which jibes with the forecast; everyone is keeping a wary eye on a nor'easter forming off shore.

I wouldn't say the kids are keeping a "wary" eye, exactly.  They're rooting for a snow day or three next week.

Yankee Swap

A Yankee Swap (in its most common form, though there are variations) is a New England holiday party tradition wherein everyone brings a wrapped, inexpensive gift.  Sometimes the gifts are obnoxious (and make the rounds of the Swaps year after year); usually, though, they're decent. 

Everyone who brought a gift draws a number, and chooses and opens a gift in the order of the drawing.  If someone who went before you got a present you like better, well, when it's your turn you just go take their present and give them yours. 

It can get brutal.

Obviously it's advantageous to get a higher number in the drawing, but best to get #1, because when it's all over #1 gets to choose from among all the presents if he or she wants to trade. 

So last night was Himself's office holiday potluck and the obligatory Yankee Swap.  I drew #17 out of 19; pretty good positioning.

The most-swapped object was one of those ice-cream-making balls that you kick around.  (This, however, was not something I coveted; I'm perfectly okay with my Cuisinart ice cream maker, which has a delightful little device called an on/off switch and requires no physical exertion other than the flick of a finger.)

When our turn came Himself opened a very respectable 2011 calendar/planner but (having received strict instructions in advance) swapped for #4's present, which had already been swapped by #11. 

It is two balls, 120 yards each, of a delicious self-striping wool/acrylic blend in shades of blue and teal.  And bamboo circs size 9.

What, oh what does it want to be?