Wow, I can't believe it's July.
I also can't believe I broke my personal dr appointment scheduling rule, "Never make a doctor's appointment for a Monday or the first day of the month. You, girl, will never see it coming."
Boo is getting two more brackets put on her teeth today. We already forgot to go last week because the 11:45 time of the appointment was just a little too late to just get up and go in the morning, but a little too early to recover from the fact that I forgot all about it between the hours of 9:30 and 1:30. I hope we remember to get there today, because I am so ready to move on with these bad boys and hopefully get done with them by the time school starts.
Today being Thursday, I am compelled to mention food. To celebrate his birthday last week, the Captain requested shrimp. I totally stressed out because he wanted to do a shrimp boil but I have zero experience with such things and because I couldn't find any live shrimp. Come to find out this is because live shrimp is a seasonal item around here, and this is not the right season.
Not to mention something is dumping toxins in the Gulf and we may never have live shrimp as a regional specialty again in our lifetime. But worrying about that is trouble that really should not be borrowed, because I have a feeling it will be about as bad as we all fear. My heart and my prayers go out to those for whom that trouble is already becoming reality.
Anyway, for birthday shrimp fest, I compromised by purchasing frozen shrimp from the other side of the world (that should be far enough away, right?) and attempting to brew up a batch of Killer Shrimp broth. This holy grail of shrimp dishes is inspired by a restaurant on a rooftop in Marina del Rey, CA by the same name, the recipe for which we have been trying unsuccessfully to recreate for ten years. The Captain has always stipulated that if we could get it right, he would be tempted to open a restaurant here in cowboy country.
For most of the day, I stressed myself that it didn't smell right. But in the late afternoon, the Captain got involved and started researching suggestions for what I could throw in the broth to bring it to its happy place.
Magically, right about 5pm, we stumbled upon the right formula. I could tell because the Captain's face suddenly relaxed as he breathed in and murmured, "Ahhhh...." The secret ingredient ended up being ************, but liberal handfuls of spices and garlic didn't hurt either.
You know how free I usually am with my recipes, right? I would publish this recipe, but then we wouldn't have anything to open our fantasy restaurant with. So you'll have to order a batch of broth from me instead!
On that birthday night, I was so pleased that Killer Shrimp made a successful appearance. We served up bowls of the cajun creation with loads of spongy french bread for dipping. I even had the presence of mind to dress the table with a red and white checked tablecloth, candle light, and bottles of cold Mexican beer.
I suppose the sense of satisfaction I feel at finally working out the formula is actually increased by my sense of how close that batch came to disaster. And to know that after ten years of experimenting, I now hold the combination in my hot little hands? Killer.
Happy birthday, Captain. May we have many more to share together.