Pickled cauliflower, enormous amount of red beans & rice

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Jack continued to have trouble sleeping last night, so round about 7:45p, he and I took a walk down to Pain Quotidien for some dessert treats. We had a wonderful date, and he was thrilled that I let him pick out 3 items (that we could all share of course). Fast forward to nearly 10p, and he is high as a kite from all the sugar. I should have considered this outcome being that two of the items were or contained chocolate, but I'd had two glasses of amazing wine so honestly, nothing more crossed my mind than if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, let's have a date. We talked for 30-40 minutes -straight! I kid you not!- about how we'd design a law-enforcement-themed cake. A good friend and one of Jack's all-time most serious crushes just got engaged, and we discussed having her and her fiance over for dinner. Long story short, Jack suggested we have this cake then but envision it aesthetically now, so we did. At one point even he said, "this is really an involved law enforcement cake." Finally, I said I couldn't go on and please, let's go to bed. Another long story short, we ended up sleeping in the basement together. Last time this happened I said I'd never do it again, and as we headed downstairs, Tom raised an eyebrow very skeptically and bid me some sort of luck-inspired farewell.

Friends, it was a horrible night of non-sleep and being kicked in the back. I was feeling all full of love for little J but I mean it now, I'm never sleeping with him again.

Anyway, after the plum jam earlier, I made a pickled cauliflower recipe that just sounded amazing. It involves pomegranate molasses which is an other-worldly substance, green cardamom and coriander. You're supposed to let it age for six weeks, and it will be hard to wait that long.

I then got started on the biggest vat of red beans and rice I've ever made. It just fits in my Staub. We're having friends for dinner tomorrow night, and RB&R is much better if made the day before you eat it. So this mess o' good is stewing away now. What a treat it will be! I'll post this recipe for you for sure. Amazing!

Sage pesto, fab article, etc

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Did you read this preposterously entertaining article in the NYTimes Magazine recently? Tom and I were in stitches and complete admiration of the monkey. Seriously, it is an absolutely awesome piece. That monkey rocks! Can I just tell you about my youngest son? A) It is good that he is enormously cute and charming because he'll need both attributes to offset his extreme mischievousness and bad-yet-hilarious sense of humor. For example, he B) death-gripped-of-love his penis for about 8 hours today, and C) tried to put said penis on my leg at bath-time, all the while laughing like a hyena. D) This morning, he flew out of the bathroom with a long piece of toilet paper hanging (I think purposefully) from (out of) his bottom. E) He is one of the cutest children I've ever known. This may be because he's mine, but I don't actually believe that. His eyelashes touch his eyebrows when he opens his eyes for the love!

In any case, you see what I'm dealing with.

My oldest son...well, A) I just spritzed him with lavender spray and applied a silk eye mask to the tender visual part of his visage because he's having trouble sleeping. This might be because I just went in and found him B) listening to a book on tape and, concurrently, C) reading -in the dark- another book from the same series but NOT the same one. Christ almighty.

Between the times of tucking in and this awake discovery, I made a sage-walnut pesto, slapped it on some ziti lungo (long ziti), topped it with toasted walnuts, fried sage leaves and pecorino and devoured my half. Delicious!

Wish I'd made some dessert, but the time, it ran the heck out.

It's been a long time since I've vented about idiot drivers but here's a new one: don't leave your car door wide(!) open on any, but especially a really busy city street, while you're doing whatever you're doing instead of closing the door and moving on. You are just inviting someone to drive straight through your door, like a bull through a toreador's flag. Good grief, people. You've got minds, use them.

WTF re: Clint Eastwood?