You Were Thinking Zig, But I Zagged

I don’t really have it in me to blog about the steak- realizing that by even saying this I’m making it sound like it’s going to be exciting or something, which it likely will not be- so I’ll continue to jump around in time like some too-clever-by-half pomo filmmaker and give you the dessert from a couple of days ago, when friends came bearing some of the takeout Pakistani food from the rednecky mini-mart near their house that changed hands recently. A couple of decent curries, rice cooked with black peppercorns, cloves, and copious butter, and not-bad salad for 8 bucks an order. Hard to argue, especially given the scarcity of edible South Asian food in these here parts.

I made dessert, though it is still an open question whether it makes the kids more or less wild; they get so amped up with asking for it every ten seconds that the minute of respite while they inhale it hardly seems like enough of a payoff. I think I prefer no sweets, since their disappointment is less shrill than their begging. But this time around, I cored some gala apples and popped them in a baking dish with the last of the fortified Australian muscat, cinnamon stick, star anise, maple syrup, black pepper, and a little brown sugar. When they were all soft, I strained the liquid into a pan and reduced it into what would have been a thick, gooey caramel given enough time, but instead–due to constant nagging from the little people–was merely an almost-caramel sauce. We scooped the last of some coconut-vanilla ice cream on top and set to. It was blessedly quiet for about a minute.