Celebrating The Season

Yesterday morning (WAY too early given the nature and quantity of Christmas drinking that accompanied my Christmas shopping the night before) I awoke with the dim and slightly fuzzy recollection that I had agreed to prepare some food for a 50th Birthday Celebration - masquerading as a Family Festivus since the Birthday Girl wanted it that way - on Saturday evening.  That thought immediately prompted another memory - that I would also need to prepare the dish I'd agreed to bring to the company holiday party at my boss's home on Monday night.  And pack to head home.  And somewhere in there I also needed to squeeze in a little Me Time (aka: mani-pedi and other... "female touch-ups", shall we call them).  And of course I'd done none of the shopping I needed to do earlier in the week.  Yeah, I probably didn't need that last drink - or three.

I gingerly lifted my head from the pillow and slowly made my way out of bed.  To the kitchen.  To locate the necessary recipes.  To make the list and then set out for my favorite market with a measure of dread regarding the task ahead.  Berkeley Bowl: Where foodies find their produce Nirvana and hippies get their organic on.

Shopping there on a Saturday these days is only a bit of a gamble.  It used the be a sure thing that you would spend at least 10 minutes waiting for a parking spot (and don't get me started on the time a guy keyed my car because I took the spot he was "saving" for someone else - they don't call the lot the Berkeley Brawl for nothing!) and the next hour in basket to basket traffic as you tried to maneuver past the bulk grains over to the mache.  But ever since owner  Glenn Yasuda decided to open up BBWest this past summer, the teeming unwashed masses have thinned and it's possible to wait less than 5 minutes for a parking spot and less than an hour negotiating your way over to the durian fruit.    And that's how it was yesterday, thank God. I was ill equipped to have handled the BB of yore.  So, back at the house a mere 75 minutes later, with my fresh dungeness crab meat, French green lentils, pinot noir, and some other impulse Asian condiment and produce purchases in hand (the first satsumas of the season!!!), I set to work.

First up: Martha's Hot Crab Dip that can be found on pg. 385 of Martha Stewart's Hors d'Oeuvres Handbook, and apparently nowhere else.   As with literally every dish I've made from that book, it's delicious - and it's what the party host requested.  I wish I'd been able to get a shot of it when it came out of the oven - but I thought it would have been perceived as a tad gauche and presumptuous to make everyone stand back while I went to grab my camera (next time I'll try to remember to have Nat or Jack at the ready!).  As it is, we have this one, before it went into the oven (yes - those are the toasted brioche breadcrumbs I made last weekend - they worked perfectly):

We also have this.  Oops.  I told you I was feeling a little....  off.  I probably shouldn't have been allowed in the kitchen actually.  So I'm considering it a personal victory that this was the only batch that ended in this fashion and that no digits were harmed in the making of the dip (though of course, because it's required every time, I did grate the tip of my freshly manicured finger nail whilst shredding the cheddar cheese).

The dish was a hit once again (except for the guy who's allergic to shellfish) and the Festivus/Birthday was a tearful and laughter-filled celebration of love, family, and the holiday season that reminds us of all we have to be thankful for.    

Today: Lentils Braised in Red Wine - my contribution to the company holiday party tomorrow night.   After I spend a little time recovering from the champagne, red wine, and port that I was so thankful for last night.  

Crap.  I still have to pack.