These biscuits didn't rise as much as promised but the layers are there which, aesthetically, is enormously pleasing. They've got a pleasant flake, a nice bite and I'm glad I spiced half with coriander and cilantro. The plain ones will be lovely spread with jam or, wait for it, lemon curd. My bottom line: meh. I wouldn't rush to make them again but if I did, I'd be OK with it. As the boys were up even earlier this morning than they were yesterday, I'm quite tired and marginally frazzled right now. And I had help today. Can we just take a moment and send praise and best wishes to all the single parents out there? Jesus H, peeps, how do they do it day in and day out? I've got 24 hours left until DH comes home, and don't think I'm not daydreaming about immediately heading out for a hotel-based respite upon hearing his key in the lock.
Dinner tonight: also meh, at best. At this point, I'm tired of quinoa (threw the rest out), tired of lentils (considering the same fate for them), and managed to overcook my foil-pouched, oven-roasted King salmon. Terrible. I slopped a bunch of rhubarb chutney on it to mask its sad, rubbery, dryness, poured a glass of wine and called it a day. Good thing I had that freaking lobster roll for lunch. Many thanks, JL. Oliver liked lobster too -good man- so we will make this a tradition when we can.
I just finished a Vogue from about 3 months ago - better late than never I suppose - and while I'm theoretically interested in the debate tonight, I know that I actually cannot handle the disgusting, juvenile bitch-slapping that is surely going on between Blowhard and Mormon. Don't you think they get tired of this?