So, this week is my "birthday week" (we keep it pretty loose since we're both very busy at the moment and our free hours are few and far between), and the first present I was allowed to open was: ta-da!!!! ...a Hello Kitty Wafflemaker.
The really weird part about this is that a few weeks ago M (who had been coming in with mysterious packages on a daily basis for several weeks) waltzed in from a T*rget foray, hinting coyly that one of my birthday presents just might be in the bag. "Oh?" I said casually, looking up from my work, "Did you get me a Hello Kitty wafflemaker or something?"
Now, this was a totally glib and off-the-cuff comment. I mean, who expects to get a Hello Kitty wafflemaker for their birthday? I thought I was just making a joke.
To his credit he (after an internal struggle) managed to keep his face muscles under control and prevent his jaw from hitting the floor, and the secret remained intact.
Now, generally, we don't eat waffles and pancakes. But we've always said that when Flynn came around, we would start the tradition up again. In my house, growing up, my mom made either waffles or pancakes every Sunday, come heck or high water. My mother was of the organic persuasion, and preferred her foods unbleached, so, pancakes or waffles, they were always buckwheat.
Mike remembered, and picked up a package of buckwheat mix, along with some real Vermont maple syrup for his Eastern-born wife.
The first round was a bit of an experiment...it's been years since either of us has laid hands on a wafflemaker.
But Mike's a quick study and before long...perfect kitties (and bunnies. and bears.)
I made short work of them. Buckwheat and real maple syrup? You won't see a crumb left over on my plate.
Oh, and this was my second birthday present. For lunch yesterday Mike took me to the very cool newer branch of the Tattered Cover bookstore, built inside what used to be an old theater stage on Colfax. The attached restaurant is an excellent bistro called, I think, Encore. Incredible food. At any rate, the first thing we noticed were the s+p dispensers - hefty and space-age, they looked like something out of a futuristic cooking laboratory (they grind a perfect single serving of fresh salt/pepper when you depress the syringe-like top). We were instantly smitten. The restaurant sold them on request, but they were quite expensive, and Mike felt sure we could find them cheaper at an upscale cooking store. After driving all the way to Westminster, we finally found them at a housewares boutique...for exactly the same price as at the restaurant.
Oh well. At least we have them. And you can bet we're gonna be seasoning fools from here on out!