I've planned an ambitious baking schedule this year: homemade challah bread to eat with our clam chowder on Christmas Eve, plus a second loaf for French toast on Christmas morning, six kinds of cookies and Martha Stewart's six-layer chocolate-salted caramel cake for dessert on Christmas night. It's fun to mock Martha, and her recipes can be ridiculously over-the-top, but they do usually taste good. So far I've made the salted caramel sauce which includes two sticks of butter and two cups of cream which is OUTRAGEOUS. The French toast (from Bon Appetit) also calls for two cups of cream and is 700 calories per serving. Zoikes. I'm also doing Lucindaville's pumpkin mousse cheesecake because it looked so delicious on her blog, and one must always be prepared for a tragic dessert shortage.
Phoebe update: she is now twelve weeks old and has lived with us for five weeks. Having a puppy is almost like having a real baby in the house. I love lifting her out of her crate in the morning, all warm and limp and sleepy. In general, she's a pretty easy puppy and so far hasn't destroyed any of our possessions, although she does like to sneak into Grace's room and steal her socks. We've taught her not to bite, but she seems to think that our bare feet are fair game. Yesterday she bit my foot hard enough to break the skin and Sancho kissed my foot and then placed himself firmly between Phoebe and me--not sure if that was for my protection or hers.
Phoebe has doubled her weight and has lost that blunt-headed infant look that baby animals have, as if they haven't fully differentiated into the correct species and can almost pass for a bunny or a squirrel.
For perspective, this is a picture of her during her first week with us. She used to like to drape herself around Jon's neck, but she's too big for that now.
And here she is now, with her BFF Sancho.
|This is what Paddington Bear would have called a "hard stare."|
So that's all I've got. I hope all my dear readers have a lovely holiday.