Here I go again, talking about food. But, what the heck, it's one of life's pleasures. George did some fantastic cooking over the weekend, we had some friends over for dinner, and these are some of the left-overs. (Press your cursor on the photo for a full-bodied closeup!)
The little potato gnocchi are smothered in a rich tomato sauce, then sprinkled with parmesan cheese. Next to those little dumplings are the fried zuchinni, the broccoli, and the watercress sandwich on French bread(which I can do without, anytime).
Below that are his fantastic croquettes that always remain a mystery because they are a ground up mixture of anything we turn our noses up at. These were quite good, with meat, onion, rice, and those detested rutabegas, parsnips and turnips that I'll never eat if I can help it. I guess just about anything tastes good if it is rolled in breadcrumbs, mixed with meat and onion, and deep-fat fried.
Actually this meal of George's was the most bizarre assortment of ghastly colors ever imaginable. There was shreddrd red cabbage salad in a vinegar dressing; shredded broccoli and carrots in Italian dressing; meat roasted with potatoes and carrots; and all of it put in neon-colored mixing bowls. The whole effect rather simmered down one's appetite, unless approached in candlelight. But with every self-promoting, patting-on-the-back chef like my hubby, he was all huffed and puffed-out proud of himself. My temptation to confront this intense spectacle with ridicule was abruptly stultified. I just gave one big gasp and said, "Wow, that's enough food to feed an army"....and these are some of the left-overs.
