Text 34583, 79 rader
Skriven 2015-12-27 07:58:34 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: Christmas dinner 2 720
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Beef Wellington - Annie found a 4 1/2 lb filet at Wegman's 
for a hundred smackers and a package of the ever-reliable
Pepperidge Farm puff pastry. She prevailed on me to make
duxelles and a rich pate for spreading on top. Affluent 
though she may be, truffles and foie gras were not in the 
budget this year. Anyhow, few of us - I myself have not -
have had a Wellington in its original profligate version.

According to the Gourmet recipe, one pre-roasts the meat
for 25 minutes. While doing this, we noticed that the my
side oven was making peculiar noises, but Annie (not wanting
to face buying a major appliance) insisted that everything
was fine. As it turns out, it wasn't. 

While I concerned myself with other tasks, she did the assembly 
with Dan - pastry in one big sheet, spread with the stuffings, 
the meat laid on top and the pastry folded over and sealed up. 
Roasted at 425 for 25 more minutes. A meat thermometer should 
read 125 or so. It didn't. It didn't register at all. Oh,
thought Annie, the meat thermometer must be kaput. She told Dan
to start carving the roast. Anguished cry from the her side
kitchen. Michaelllll! The meat was almost raw, perfect for me,
not so great for medium-rare people. Shall we say, extensive
use was made of the microwave while I made the Madeira sauce
to go with. The result was actually pretty good, the liver and
mushroom flavors soaking partway into the exceedingly tender
and mild meat. Disclaimer: I was served the slice made when it
was determined that the meat inside the pastry was still raw.

I guess people must have been okay with the dish, because
everyone but Annie and me ate all their meat (we left about
3 oz each), and everyone but me ate all the pastry.

As near as we can figure, the my side oven had misbehaved for
the first cooking. It couldn't have been the fault of the her
side oven, which did a great job of browning the pastry and
thus must have done its part.

Annie had her heart set on wild rice. I wanted to cook it with 
a bit of fat and stock, but she wanted it plain, like what
she remembered from her childhood, so she cooked it herself, 
and it was the blandest thing you ever tasted, and nobody, 
including herself, ate more than a couple tablespoons of it.

Peas in honor of Anne, who has strong likes and dislikes in
vegetables. They were a success, requiring five minutes in the 
microwave and no skill in the making. Thank you, Mr. Birdseye.

Dan and Big Charlie are brothers with high-falutin' tastes 
and varying budgets, Charlie's being larger than Dan's, as
Dan is sort of retired and Charlie is in the midst of a
busy career delivering babies.

Dan brought the Ch. Saint-Pierre 03 (St. Julien), which had
mellowed nicely, with faded flowers, good wood, and a pleasant
cedary Bordeaux flavor. We had this first.

Ch. Paillet-Quancard 10 (Cadillac) - a magnum courtesy of the
doctor - was way too young, the wood being more pronounced
and with a greenish, spicy tinge. I drank a few milliliters
of this out of politeness' sake. Not that it was bad bad,
just that it was too aggressive for the meat. Might have gone
okay with a leg of lamb or even a sirloin.

Orange cake - Annie had combined two recipes that she'd read.
She perhaps might have stuck with one. This cake was rather
dry and tough - we remedied the issue with an orange simple 
syrup that I'd made on noticing how firm the outside of the 
cake was and had had on hand in case of emergency; that and 
a can of Reddi-Wip, which covers a multitude of sins.

There were also two fruitcakes and a whole lot of Christmas
cookies waiting in the wings. None of these except perhaps
a couple cookies saw service.

Coffee - as neither of us drinks the stuff, we almost 
forgot to provide for those few guests who do. 
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