(no subject)

[theatokos]

Last night I had the most amazing dinner. Adam was craving meat so I decided to cook lamb chops, asparagus, and mashed potatoes. We got enormous lamb chops from the butchers. They must have been 2 inches thick, more like steaks on steroids than chops. Gloriously pink. I set to work in a lovely kitchen, wood paneling, a large island, lots of cast iron pots, and a large gas range. The meat took a long time to cook. Nigel Slater said he'd take care of the meat. He brought out several more square cast iron griddles so that all the chops would be ready at once. I turned to talk to my mother and Adam. Then got distracted with other things. When I remembered dinner it was all taken care of. The table was set for the four of us: me, Adam, my mother, Nigel. Plates full, the tremendous cut of meat lying in front of me. I cut into it, pink, moist, cooked to perfection.

What the hell am I doing dreaming of meat in such pornographic detail?? I can vividly recall the way the chop was textured, both raw and cooked. Time passed much like it would it you were waiting for meat to cook. Strangely, I didn't wake up craving meat. I don't even eat much meat at all. But, if Nigel Slater wants to cook me dinner I'll gladly accept.

Comments

[cambozola.livejournal.com]

Thanks... kind words really help actually :)