Once, upon a time...
Remembrances of new moon... They say in Turkmenistan that if you show money to the new moon it will mean that you will have money in the month to come ( at least). My friend took out her last $13 American dollars and flashed it at the crescent moon last night in twilight, the last of the money she had earned to come to Canada, in anticipation of this prophecy.
The Chef was cooking sauces last night. A cream tarragon and red wine sauce for the miniature bar-b-ques. Caramel with Grande Marnier and the secret Chocolate sauces ( orgasmic) for the strawberry and cookie dipping. A feast with panache. Starters were a double cream Brie baked with roasted walnuts and a vine ripened tomato salad with fresh basil, olive oil, lemon, balsamic vinaigrette, topped with shaved red onion. Fresh baguette, cold butter and straight up Stoly. Kosher pickles to nibble with the Vodka. (Russian tradition)
The smoke alarm only resounded once. The plastic bag was adjusted to prevent the fire brigade's entrance, and tongs were readied to braise the smorgasbord of morsels of meat. Beef heart, veal, pork tenderloin, chicken marinated in tarragon. Freshly ground pepper sanctified every course. Sauces were readied for immersion. Red wine and conversation about the comparisons of Turkmen/Russian/French and Canadian culture fortified the evening. The dessert was consumed intermittently throughout the meal.
Yum. A new Canada Day tradition was forged.
