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This post written in garlic pentameter

I just separated, peeled and trimmed six heads of garlic. Six heads. It took me nearly an hour. Two-thirds of the garlic is simmering in two cups of whole milk right now. The remaining 20 or so cloves I split in half lengthwise, cleaned of the green germ in the center, and sealed in several layers of plastic in the fridge. This is for a chicken recipe out of The Provence Cookbook by Patricia Wells.

Right around when Dave and I got married -- nearly 8 years ago! -- I spent about six hours in a fit of domesticity producing six pumpkin spice cakes from a recipe in Martha Stewart Living. The cakes were mini bundts made from the most complicated spice cake recipe ever. I had to steep ginger and spices to make an "essence" with which to flavor the cake. (Note to Martha: Someone already did this, bottled it, and called it Pumpkin Pie Spice.) The cakes were topped with elaborate pumpkiny marzipan shells, hand-tooled leaves and delicately curling vines and all. They did look a lot like mini pumpkins. They were pretty. And they tasted like crap. This garlic chicken fricasee with garlic confit better be good.

When I put the garlic in for its second milk bath, the milk boiled over and garlicky milk froth spilled over the stove and the cookbook. In my haste to contain the mess, I handled several things with my extremely garlicky hands. And then in trying to capture the garlic-ganza, I took this picture, and now my camera will probably smell like garlic forever. And, now that I think about it as I type this, my keyboard, too. I have scrubbed my hands, but you know, garlic hands take days to go away completely.

Now that I'm not training for an Ironman, it seems fitting that I should spend a Saturday in my pajamas and muck around in the kitchen all day. Did I mention that I also cooked eggs and pancakes for breakfast and tomato soup for lunch, and baked a loaf of wheat bread? I didn't leave the house until 8pm.

August 20, 2005 11:47 PM

Comments

Dammit, I want to come over for dinner now. Sigh.

How did the chicken turn out?

The chicken was spectacular. Unfortunately, the intestinal aftermath of eating so much garlic was equally spectacular.