Sunday March 17
Lisa and John have been treating
us like royalty, or this morning, like Busboys and Poets, the name of the place
we had brunch.
For dinner, John took a side of wild-caught
sockeye salmon and grilled it out on the patio, which took some fortitude,
since despite daffodils being in bud, the temperature here in the South is just
about freezing.
In the meantime, Lisa whomped up a
delicious butternut squash and cumin couscous, while we drank an interesting
Belgian framboise alembic, and then a pinot grigio.
We also helped her make a glorious
apple tart with almond custard; John had rolled the extra crust-cuttings up and
baked them into kind of ruggelach, which made an ideal before-dinner
snack. The tart itself made a luscious dessert,
with a glass of Lake Erie port.
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