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What a crazy few weeks it has been. I’ve had shoots booked the last several week-ends, which means, during the week, I am busy editing and getting images ready to go back out to clients and on our website. Believe me, there are worse problems to have, right?
These shoot, in turn, have generated buzz with some other people who are interested in having pictures done, if possible before Christmas. That qualifies for a miracle, for sure, but thankfully, everyone has been so reasonable. It’s crazy cool to be able to say, “I’m already shooting that day, but let’s see what other dates are available.”
My colleague, Kendall, over at This is Happily Ever After, has also been booking like crazy. I am so grateful that she and I are partners in this venture. It’s been exciting, educational, and so much fun.
Where would you go?
This is a recipe that I was introduced to from my friend Tavya at one of our oenophilic book clubs. Over the course of our bookclubs’ existence, it has morphed from a few snacks shared over poignant discussion about the latest selection to a more Bacchanalian type revelry where the only thing we end up reading is the label on the wine bottle. Ahhh, literature.
But I digress. Last fall, Tavya graciously opened her home (and her wine bottles) to us, complete with a homemade Asian repast. She and another friend had taken some Asian cooking classes at one of the local schools and decided to share their knowledge with us. Enter the Asian Turkey Meatballs.
Now, I’m strictly a chicken and beef kind of girl. Turkey, pork, lamb — eh, I’ll eat it, but give me a steak or a chicken breast first and then another one later to wash out the taste. I think my aversion to using turkey when beef is clearly indicated stems from my mother’s attempts to “put one over” on us as kids. Back before Jessica Seinfield was slipping pureed cauliflower into brownies, my own mother was subbing ground turkey for ground beef and telling us, “Really! These are the same tacos I made last week.” I’m not saying my tastebuds are Eric Ripert sophisticated, but even I know the difference between mushed up meat, Old El Paso seasoning or not.
I like my turkey (when I deign to eat it, that is), either cut off the bird or sliced off a log emblazoned with the Boar’s Head logo on it. Ground turkey? Eh. There’s something about the bubble gum pink waves of meat laying in the styrofoam tray that makes my stomach do several half-gainers. Then, when you cook it? It’s not an odor, not an aroma, which implies something pleasant. It just gives off this whiff of poultry, just too much poultry. I’ve been over-poultried; I can’t season it up fast enough.
So, Tavya presented the meatballs with several dipping sauces, describing how she made them and promptly lost me when she said, “ground turkey”. Not one to be a bad guest, however, I loaded one on my plate with the other goodies and decided to give it at least a courtesy bite.
Between animated discussion not centered around the book (yeah, I can’t remember what it was), we drank and ate and ate and drank. After a while, I realized, my meatball was gone and I had been steadily spearing others from the serving tray. They were delicious! And I’m even going to go as far as to say they were kinda healthy because it was. . .. turkey!
I got the recipe several days later and stocked up on the ingredients to try it out on Mo and Co. When I got to the meat department at the store, I couldn’t go all in with the ground turkey (old habits die hard), so I split the difference with some ground pork. That was actually a good call because I was able to make enough meatballs for dinner that evening and freeze a whole bunch for dinners down the road. What was that?! Menu planning?! I know, I’m just as surprised as you are.
So, the meatballs were browned and cooking in the oven. I had some basmati rice with shaved carrots on the stove. I made of the Trader Joe Cilantro Chicken Wontons, which if you don’t know, you must educated yourself immediately. I called the girls to dinner and hyped up the whole meal as “better than Chinese food” (dangerous, yes, but I was pretty proud of my culinary skills). With a flourish, I handed them some kiddie chopsticks because if you’re going to sell it, sell it all the way.
Talk about clean plate club.
Asian Turkey (and Pork) Meatballs? You’re a welcome guest any time.
When I picked up Mo-Dizzle from school yesterday, I asked her how her day went.
“Oh, it was good,” she said, buckling herself into her seat. “I left you a note in my lunchbox about my sandwich, though.”
“Huh?” I asked, wheeling us out of the carpool lane and into traffic. “What happened to your sandwich?”
“Nothing, I just didn’t eat it. I left you a note about it.” she repeated and then promptly severed communication by sticking her nose in a Magic Tree House Book.
Fast forward to the great unload from the car: backpacks, library books, assorted jackets, sweaters, and stray papers. As girls hung up their stuff, I opened up the lunchboxes. In Morgan’s lunchbox, I found the aforementioned note:
I’m embarassed to admit how often I have a Chicken Fajita Bowl for lunch. Let’s just say, I think I need a Chipotle-vention. . .
. . .right after I finish this last bowl.