Tuesday, July 13, 2010

The only thing better than steak for dinner...

...Is pie for breakfast. And lunch. We definitely didn't both eat pie for breakfast and lunch today. Nope. Not us. Caenaan claims that his lunchpie was more of an afternoon snack. I call bullshit.

We devirginized our grill yesterday evening. I went to Safeway and bought what I later found out to be sub-par grilling steaks... Caenaan educated me that top round is not as tender as sirloin or tenderloin. I just bought something that looked pretty and was fairly cheap (I buy wine the same way), but I guess that's not the way to buy steaks. But they just LOOKED so pretty! Check out these awesome grill marks...

Anyway, Caenaan also made some garlicky asparagus and mushrooms that were DA BOMB (thank you, 90's cathphrase). He tossed the asparagus and button mushrooms with olive oil, minced garlic, salt and pepper, then made a tray out of tin foil and put that on the grill. He covered it with another piece of tinfoil so they would steam on the grill. I don't even like mushrooms, but they were awesome.

Note that I am drinking PBR, while Caenaan enjoys a classy glass of red wine. Psh.

Earlier in the day, I showed what a fantastically domestic housewife I am and made a strawberry-rhubarb pie. Last month, Caenaan brought me HUGE stalks of rhubarb from a lady at work, and we made a pie for the company at OHTC. However, Caenaan had to leave town early and couldn't try it. It was AMAZING. The filling didn't run and the crust was perfectly flaky. I tried to recreate it yesterday, and while the crust was once again perfect, the filling was a bit runny. Altitude difference? Or maybe I used less cornstarch. I'm not sure. Here is the pie from start to finish:

Ready for the oven, with my pie-shield from Pampered Chef:

And finally, a beautiful slice before I devoured it:

After dinner, we cleaned up and then went to take the garbage cans to the street for pickup on Tuesday morning. I wanted the one with the wheels, but Caenaan told me it was heavier, so he would carry it. He slung it over his shoulder, took about four steps, then said, "Oh shit, what just dripped down my back?" It was nasty, stinky, putrid garbage juice. He ran inside, stripping his clothes as he went, and jumped immediately into the shower. I laughed hysterically on the lawn for a few minutes, and then came inside to help... by taking pictures of him crouched in the bathtub, washing garbage juice off his legs and back. Those pictures have since been deleted (trust me, you wouldn't want to see it). I did make up a song, though... "Caaaeeee-naaan, the garbage-juice maaaann!" It's catchy. I think he liked it.

Look for more posts about our grilling adventures, hopefully on nights where the wind doesn't try to blow our food away, and when we have some friends over.

Even though this post was written through the perspective of Mrs. Hatfield, Mr. Hatfield contributed greatly :)

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