September 10, 1997

Slept okay last night, but was waken by Fezzik whimpering, and he's done this about two or three nights in a row. So I finally figured out that it was kinda like when he was a puppy and we'd go down and play with him when he cried. But when we left him alone all night for one night, after that he didn't cry as much anymore. He'd had good chances to use the woods earlier in the evening, so it wasn't that he had to go, but I went down to check and he was licking away at himself on a spot, so I bitterappled it and put soothing lotion on it and petted him for a while and then went back to bed and sleep.

Sometimes I feel guilty about how little attention we've really been able to give Fezzik. But he has fun wandering about the neighborhood and last night he had fun disrupting the neighbor's girls' team practice and they all ran over and petted him a lot. Sometimes I think that he has less fun going out on walks with us because he can't stop at all the places he usually stops for handouts, attention and the like. But at other times I think he's happier when he's doing stuff with us.

Did steaks last night. Bacon wrapped beef loin chunks, and I did it perfectly, for the first time in a long time and I have to attribute the gas stove and the ability to completely and instantly control the temperature. I had a no-stick pan, sprayed just a bit of olive oil no-stick spray stuff in it, heated it until the olive oil started to bead and gather and just barely started to smoke. Then I slapped the two pieces of meat into the pan, waited about five seconds, then turned 'em onto pan surface they hadn't touched yet to quick sear both sides. I then turned the gas fire down to nearly as small as it would go, about a 2 on a scale of 10. And then I waited.

There's this touch test for steaks. Rare is what the web of your hand between your thumb and your palm feels like when your hand is loose. Push on it and push on a cooking steak and that's what a rare feels like. Spread your hand. Push again, that's medium rare. Ball your hand into a fist, thumb outside your fingers. That's medium. Push on the cartiledge at the end of your nose. That's well. Sometimes I think you might as well use a rock for well... but if you care for well, the tip of your nose is about as hard as you really want it to get.

I cooked them to about a medium rare, and when we cut into them, there was the seared sides, and then the rest of the meat was an even dark pink, all through, rather than rare in the middle and shoe leather to either side. That's what happens when you cook beef with a low temperature, it cooks evenly. It was tender, juicy and utterly redolent with bacon through it. I actually didn't eat the bacon and most of the grease was poured off from the pan, but the wrap around had kept the steak basted in the juice. We get them in a six pack from Costco for less than a dinner out. So it's a cheap way to have good steak.

Also had Trader Joe's Macaroni Alfredo with a lot of extra Parmesian, as I didn't think they put quite enough cheese in the box, and a huge bowlful of cherry tomatoes from John's mother's garden. They were tiny, cold, and so sweet.

Heh. You hungry yet?

Food is good.

© 1997 by Liralen Li

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