Boo, Hiss

First, the resounding boo for the enormous coyote I scared out of the back yard this morning. I was changing the turkey's water and giving them some food when I saw a brown shape to my left. I think the coyote noticed me at the same time that I saw him, because he high-tailed it into the woods. The most shocking part was his size. I've seen some wild dogs cavorting in fields in Redmond, but this guy was really big. Larger than a Labrador, smaller than a Great Dane. Too big to fit into my large-animal trap, for sure. Luckily he seemed rather skittish. I'm sure I'll see more missing cat signs up next week. Come to think of it, he was the size that could have eaten Hans the goat easily.

Hiss is for the flat tire I got on my way home this morning. I managed to drift into the driveway before it deflated down to a little puddle. The upside is that the spare has a sprightly mustard yellow rim color. Quite festive!


Then there was tasty. Charlie and I ate at the Crossroads food court for dinner. You may turn up your nose at your average mall food court, but not this one. It's got just about every nationality represented food-wise. Vietnamese, Japanese, Chinese, Mexican, Indian, Thai, Mediterranean, Italian, and Russian. And a few others too. Charlie had some of the tastiest pierogi I've ever had the pleasure of stealing from his plate. The stuffing was lamb and beef.

My nose in a glass

The Wine

Last night we had friends and their family over to celebrate Mona's birthday. Like the exquisite guests that they are, they brought fruit and a bottle of wine. I always love having Ido's mother and step-father over because not only are they fascinating company and always good for stimulating discussion.....they also know a LOT about fine food. His step-father especially has a nose for wine that never ceases to amaze me. Any bottle they bring is usually going to be fabulous (as well as something I've never had before) but last night they outdid themselves.

I'm not usually a fan of French wine. I find it too earthy, too peaty and sediment heavy. Imagine a beautiful french countryside, and you are leaning against a rough wooden fencepost and you hear a cork gently ease free of a bottle. Oh, you say, bring me some of that fine French wine! Inhale the fine crisp air and feel the weathered wood and the grass under your legs and somewhere on the edge of your vision someone is gathering mushrooms into an old woven basket. A glass is handed to you, and you swirl and sip and realize that this wasn't exactly what you had in mind. It's gritty, and you can't get over that taste of loam, and you suspect they filtered your wine through a sack filled with dirt.

Now pop that fantasy. That's the old Sarah's French wine experience. Last night I sat at the dinner table and I stuck as much of my face as I could into a wineglass and just inhaled the intense smell of the wine they brought. It. Was. Glorious. There was sediment in there but I didn't give a damn. I absorbed as much of it as I could directly through my pores and then drank the rest in short tiny sips to make it last longer, never taking my nose out of that glass. I may never have French wine again, since I don't think anything can ever compare. It was the best of any wine I've ever had.

Charlie has mastered cooking with aromatics

Another thing that smelled good this weekend was a pot of tom kha gai soup that Charlie made on Saturday night. It's a Thai chicken soup with coconut milk and lots of kaffir lime leaves. Charlie has adapted his recipe to be sort of a whole-pot bouquet garni of ingredients that he sautees, then cooks with the coconut milk, then strains to make a velvety liquid. Once that infusion is ready, he adds in the chicken and mushrooms. You get all of the flavor with none of the lemongrass shards caught between your teeth. We like this soup so much, in fact, that we have a kaffir lime tree growing in our kitchen so that we can use the leaves.

What did not smell good today: the stain on the floor underside of the aviary. It smelled bad, but once those boards are dry I can flip them over, screw them down, and have a proper floor. Then it's time to build the walls.

What looked pretty today: this red bush. I have no idea what it is, but in the summer it has deep aubergine leaves and in the fall they turn a flaming scarlet.