A Taste of Romance

Here are the Potatoes Anna that I made earlier this week for my Designated Straight's Birthday.

I could tell you how I made them -- in real time --and sometime tomorrow, you would have the recipe. I shaved potatoes through Chef Tom's $487,000 mandoline (at considerable constant risk of amputation); soaked each wafer in heavy cream and sprigs of gently-hand-rubbed thyme; and then built maybe 13 concentric circles, layer by painstaking layer of these wafers, alternating with drizzles of  butter and cream; salt and pepper; and then topping with gruyere (not too much, it's an oil slick). I did this in a springform pan; baked for the requisite one hour; after which they were not done. Frantic texts to Food Gay Chef Tom yielded the solution: whip up froth of half cream and butter then braise the potatoes for an additional half hour at 400 degrees. (It worked.)

I am not sure I could've saved the dish, or the birthday dinner, or frankly, the relationship, on my own. (Don't ask about the Cake. It's another story for another day.)

I've been blogging our Saturday brunches for awhile now, and have been the first to say his culinary prowess is fully equal to my own. Today was another one of his perfect omelets (I did sausage biscuits; sausage gravy; and bloody marys).

He was, as usual, due to leave in time to watch the game at a buddy's. But didn't. It is possible that is because I implied that however well his buddies might be stocked on chips, dips, and beers, there were certain acts of a private nature that they were unlikely to perform at say, halftime.

So....for whatever (ultimately unknowable) reason, he stuck around to watch the game. At which time, I served this.

When the guacamole Pringles come out, Romance and Passion's days are numbered. Or as Michael Jansen Miller puts it, "Little Debbie Nutty Bars are next."

Well, what can I say?
We gave it a good run.