Sunday, November 17, 2019

Nice Cream

The new Weight Watchers (or WW as they call themselves now) has gone all out to make
recipes for all kinds of foods, including ice cream.  They call it "nice" cream but it's not really cream but whizzed frozen bananas with flavorings, other fruits, extracts, and bits and bobs of this and that.  I had a package of frozen mango so I froze four bananas and mixed that with the slightly defrosted mango then stirred in vanilla and rum extracts, and a couple tablespoons of toasted sliced almonds.  I had a little nibble and it's not bad.  The only negative was that my wedding gift blender smelled like it was overheating when I made the mango cream.


Then I got it into my head to make coffee flavored "nice" cream with mini chocolate chips.  So I took some espresso powder that I mixed with a little water and stirred it into more frozen bananas, mini chocolate chips, and more toasted almonds.  BUT I realized that just three fingertip's worth of tasting it made me feel jittery so I won't be able to eat it.  I'm letting it freeze solid so it'll be easier to toss and I put coffee extract on my shopping list.  All I've wasted is six bananas (at 20 cents a pound) and a quarter cup of chips (which I already had on hand).  No biggie.  The best thing is that when I was at Walmart I treated myself to the Cuisinart food processor that I've wanted for years.  Every time I looked they were just too expensive so I've made do with the old blender but today I was determined and only spent $60.  Not bad.


I met a friend for coffee this afternoon just down the street from DS & DIL1's brewery building so I drove down there to see a real building in what had been an empty field with a few pieces of steel poking up in it the last time I stopped.  It had a roof and siding and a loading dock, and soon it'll have glass in the windows.  It's getting real, kids.



We met at Lox, Stock, and Bagels where knitted items from Bay Lakes Knitting Guild are on display.  Some are mine!  It was very cool to see my stuff hanging there.  And I didn't disturb any of the other customers to show them which are mine.  Tempted but I refrained.  (the tan/red hanging towel, the red fingerless mitts, and a couple hats that are out of frame--I knew you'd want to know)



On my way home I slowed down to look at the coat hanger snowflakes my neighbor and his lady love are making and stopped in to visit for a few minutes.  I ended up buying one of the lighted presents he's been making for the last few years to put on my porch (I picked a red one, of course).  He's the guy that's fixing my snowblower.  He called this morning and had found a replacement starter on Amazon for a very reasonable price so I ordered it and now we wait--and hope that no more snowstorms happen for the next week or so.




Then I went downstairs and finished sewing up the red plaid Dress no. 2.  It was so lovely to have my serger there and working so that I could finish the seams and raw edges of the hems.  I didn't think I'd miss it like I did.  I'm sure glad that it's back.



 
17 November--Barbara Malcolm, Spies Don't Retire. 

For Irina the arrival of Major George Clemment brought a renewal of the spicy fear and intrigue that had been missing in their lives.  She couldn’t understand how Dimitri who had lived the life of a spy for so many years could be so casual about it, could even be eager to become friends with him.  She was astonished that Dimitri did not feel threatened by the Brit’s presence or keep a lower profile when he was around.  And he was always around.  Clemment had lured Dimitri into being interested in snorkeling so they were constantly thrown together, albeit in the company of other men, and a few hardy women.  Irina did not swim.  She did not have any interest in whatever slimy creatures lurked under the rippling waves.  Her only interest in them was when they were lying on her plate, killed and dismembered, and covered with herbs or sauce.  She didn’t want to know their names or their habits and thought that the sticky feeling salt water left on the skin was an indicator of how unwelcome humans were in the ocean.
She thought that bird watching was an appropriate hobby for an aging academic. She approved of that group of doddering dweebs.  The members of the birders tended to be tall and thin or short and pudgy men with thick glasses, silly looking hats to keep the sun off their balding heads, and knobby knees peering out from under baggy shorts.  They wore heavy socks and sturdy boots to deflect the ever-present cactus spines and kept their binoculars screwed to their eyes while they scanned the sky and trees for any species they might have missed.  No nearly naked old men with their sunken chests and hairy legs poking out of baggy swimsuits or, god forbid, tiny Speedo swimsuits that displayed their sagging genitals for all to see.
She had insisted that Dimitri purchase a proper bathing costume to protect his pale skin and deflect the onset of skin cancer from spending so much time gazing down at the bottom of the sea.  Dimitri insisted he needed a wetsuit (Irina was certain this was George’s idea) and he went to one of the dive shops and spent money they could not really afford on something that probably cost too much.  He would not tell her how much he had spent for it.  He was so thrilled that when he got the wetsuit home he insisted on modeling it for her.  She had to close her eyes at the vision of the long, lean Dimitri parading like a child in front of her, preening with glee at his new outfit.
“You look like a plucked goose,” was what she said, and she watched with satisfaction when his smile slid off his face and his shoulders slumped.
“That was mean, Irina.  I don’t say things like that when you bring home more of your favorite jewelry that looks like torture devices.  But I know you are determined to be unhappy so I will let you be and get on with my life.”  He walked out of the room, leaving his stunned wife without a retort.
In retaliation she went to her favorite jewelry shop on the island and bought herself a new necklace that she prayed cost more than Dimitri’s black rubber suit.



It got almost to 40 degrees today.  I know that doesn't sound like much but it was a massive improvement over the 27 degree days we've been having.
--Barbara

1 comment:

Aunt B said...

You're going to love that food processor. I use mine more than I thought I would and I don't cook nearly as much as you do. Love all the red stuff today. That lighted package is really neat. Hope your order from Amazon comes as quickly as an item I saw on line Saturday afternoon. Loved it so I ordered it; yesterday morning it was delivered!! Amazing. I'm not going to try to picture Dimitri in his wetsuit -- but wouldn't be as snotty as Irina. She's definitely not nice.