Always lead off with "The Cats are fine.."

Suzy. Is. Pissed.  About my forgetting to add her picture to the previous post. So pissed that straight WRECKED our kitchen last night.  You are thinking “Oh Dear, Whit has lost her shit…how does a kitchenaid mixer wreck someone’s kitchen. It is an inadament object and you are losing. Your. Mind. Sister.”  Whelp you’re all wrong because who the hell else flooded our kitchen? Oh, that was me? Shit…

So we had some dishes that needed soaking, if you know what I mean.  They were not dishwasher ready, had some business that wasn’t coming off so I filled the sink with soapy water and let those bad boys soak while we were at work. (STOP the judgment people! Just stop it right now! You’re telling me you never felt too tired to scrub?) What about the cats, you are terrible leaving your sink filled with soapy toxins for your cats to get into. (Shut it. I put our very nice, very large cutting board over the sink, ok? There is no way they can move it because they don’t have opposable thumbs.  You just show me a cat whose paw is strong enough to move an entire cutting board. SHOW ME!)  So our sink has a drip issue, (For the love of God, NO do NOT tell our landlord.  He will come in and we will be without a sink for 10 days at the speed he works) and I guesssssss the sink filled up and the cutting board soaked through and the water went all over the floor and Dad came home to a big fat mess.  I would just like to thank our Lord Baby Jesus who conveniently and serendipitously had me make dinner plans with my girlfriends so that I did not have to handle that mess.  Thanks Baby J! I also would like to take a hot second to tell you that if there is minor trouble in the water, you do NOT want DAD to call for help.  It would take him 25 minutes to tell you what was wrong.  I thought the cats were dead.  I thought the apartment caught fire.  I thought we had been robbed with the way he was telling me this story last night.  It went a little something like this:

“Hey Dad!”  “Heeeey………”

“What’s the matter?” 10 second pause “Well I got home………to the apartment…………and I walked into the kitchen…………and the sink…………………overflowed onto the floor”

“Christ on a Cracker! Can you just lead off with THE CATS ARE FINE BUT?!?!?!?”

It’s like that one time when he LOST Chloe, yes he LOST Chloe and it took him 30 minutes to get to the “but I found her she’s cool” What the flip!!!  How, in a 700 square foot apartment do you lose a 20 pound cat?  Well he did, she rode the elevator to another floor. (I also want to know, who in the world gets in an elevator and doesn’t think,  “Huh, wonder why there’s a cat in here?”)  She was found by a person with cats, they took her in, gave her food water and her own litter, and she proceeded to harass their cat so they had to be separated.  A mere 5 hours later, Dad starts to wonder where Chloe is…. He realizes she’s gone, calls the doorman to see if he’s “Seen or heard of a wandering cat” Amazing.  It literally took him 25 minutes to tell me that he FOUND THE CAT.  ALWAYS LEAD OFF WITH THE CATS ARE FINE!

Now you are going to suggest that I be locked in a padded room far away from any cats because I obviously am in danger of becoming an animal hoarder and placed on Animal Planet or Dateline NBC as the woman who was too obsessed with her pets.  But I felt it important to tell you, so that if Dad calls you on the phone and something is wrong, it is safe to assume the cats are fine.  See, I just did you a solid.

But enough about cats, this here’s a food blog and I guess I better tell you about food.   It feels like fall outside and I am NOT UPSET ABOUT IT PEOPLE!  I flove fall. I flove anything with a sweater and I flove fall food and I especially flove pumpkin.  Now that it’s the first morning in the 60’s we’ve had, pumpkin’s on the mind.  I can’t stop thinking about the pumpkin ice cream I made last fall, and I think this weekend it’s gonna have to happen!  Here is the recipe I used last year, I’ll let you know if I mix it up, which I am most certain that I will!

Pumpkin Ice Cream

1 cup fresh pumpkin puree or canned
  unsweetened pumpkin puree

1 tsp. vanilla extract

2 cups heavy cream

3⁄4 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar

5 egg yolks

1⁄2 tsp. ground cinnamon

1⁄2 tsp. ground ginger

1⁄4 tsp. salt

Pinch of freshly grated nutmeg

1 Tbs. bourbon (I like maker’s mark)

In a bowl, whisk together the pumpkin puree and vanilla. Cover and refrigerate for at least 3 hours or up to 8 hours.

In a heavy 2-quart saucepan over medium heat, combine 1 1/2 cups of the cream and 1/2 cup of the brown sugar. Cook until bubbles form around the edges of the pan, about 5 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a bowl, combine the egg yolks, cinnamon, ginger, salt, nutmeg, the remaining 1/2 cup cream and the remaining 1/4 cup brown sugar. Whisk until smooth and the sugar begins to dissolve.

Remove the cream mixture from the heat. Gradually whisk about 1/2 cup of the hot cream mixture into the egg mixture until smooth. Pour the egg mixture back into the pan. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon and keeping the custard at a low simmer, until it is thick enough to coat the back of the spoon and leaves a clear trail when a finger is drawn through it, 4 to 6 minutes. Do not allow the custard to boil. Strain through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl.

Place the bowl in a larger bowl partially filled with ice water, stirring occasionally until cool. Whisk the pumpkin mixture into the custard. Cover with plastic wrap, pressing it directly on the surface of the custard to prevent a skin from forming. Refrigerate until chilled, at least 3 hours or up to 24 hours.

Transfer the custard to an ice cream maker and freeze according to the manufacturer's instructions. Add the bourbon during the last minute of churning. Transfer the ice cream to a freezer-safe container. Cover and freeze until firm, at least 3 hours or up to 3 days, before serving.

 SO GOOD!

And here is that glamour shot of Suzy, the hussie who flooded our kitchen.  Hope it was worth it, Sue. You’re grounded. 

And the cats, Oh, they’re fine.

Love,

Whit