With a Heavy, Honeyed Heart

This is my 401st post. I just noticed that. Not the foot I was looking to start a new cent on. Then again, I've always hated pennies and that 400th post? That one reflected a beautiful afternoon full of food and family/friends (those with fur and those who are just Greek). That was a good one.

This is not and I'm sorry for that. I have been talking about this all over the Internet- from Twitter to Tumblr to Facebook and then some. For some reason I still can't bring myself to talk about it here. Like this is the place that things come to be real.

HoneyCat has been missing since last Wednesday (5/21). She was in the garden Wednesday afternoon but never came home that night. For an animal that would come OUT of the house just so she could come INTO the house with me, spending the night out turns out to have been just as frightening a harbinger as it felt like at the time.

Fliers (above) are littering my neighborhood. I walk through the streets and alleys first thing every morning, at night after work and last thing before bed. Calling her with kissy noises and a jiggling treat bag. I've been to both major city pounds and every shelter has a copy of her flier. She has a Craigslist post and a missing pet profile.

So far I've had five emails and four phone calls from neighbors who thought they'd seen her, wanted to help or just expressing that their thoughts were with me. The woman who took me around the city pound on Friday emailed me today to check in. I-friends and IRL friends and the hybrids have RT'd and Re-blogged and offered military-quality cat-hunts. In a word: awesome.

This morning's call was from a guy walking his dog. He'd seen another guy looking for Honey in that area (note: I've never met either of these neighbors) and had a sighting. I was making pie crust this morning (Jaimeson comes in tonight) and answered my phone with some surprise at 7am. When he gave me the coordinates, I nothing short of SPRINTED four blocks west.

I got there and started in with my kisses and coos. I heard paws and a tail moving through hostas.

And then a cat appeared that was not HC. Same coloring. Same basic size. But no tiger stripe down the nose. No huge green eyes. No extra four pounds. This cat's tail moved with more fluidity than the windshield wiper I've known and loved.

The biggest difference?
This cat was wearing a collar that indicated it lived at the house I stood before.

Of all the treats and warm laps and anthropomorphous conversations I gifted her with, that was the one thing Honey did not currently have and I failed her in that completely. I cheated myself as well. Out of answers, out of warmth, out of knowing. I've put pets to sleep. I've had a cat and a dog hit by cars in my quiet suburban childhood. But the vanishing? This is an entirely new breed of hurt.

When the Not-Honeycat came to my calls this morning and wrapped herself around my legs and let me hold her while purring in her Not-Honeycat way, I stood in front of my neighbor's house and dry-heaved into their housepet, the doppelganger who was likely the source of all former sightings.

And it makes sense that it would have been her that they saw and not mine. Because if HC was out and about? She'd be home. She'd be with me. We do everything together. People have told me not to put away her dishes yet, not to give up the ghost. "Cats do this." But I just don't think she does. Honey doesn't do this. She's a codependent, chubby chicken of a feline and the house feels so empty without her. As one of the first subjects I ever broached here, this place feels empty of her antics as well.

Taken Wednesday morning, 5/21

I don't know what else to say...I am devastated.

Brothers and Suns

As you've already seen once this week, we were graced pretty exceptionally with a perfect weekend in Chicago last weekend. When the weather begins behaving, I'm of the impression that it's among the most beautiful places around and that largely revolves around how thoroughly appreciated it is by we residents of the Second City. People are dancing in the streets.

Ok, some of that ties back to pretty days and some of it ties into the appearance of fantastic brunch cocktails that are best consumed on patios. Enter my first attempt to make a Bloody Mary from scratch.

It started at the Map Room. One of my favorite bars in Chicago since J introduced me to it 2 1/2 years ago, they do $5 Bloody Mary's every Sunday. Served with a couple olives and a Slim Jim, it's a pretty solid way to spend the day unless it's gorgeous out. The Map Room, for all of it's prettiness on the inside, isn't even a contender for the pageant circuit on the outside.

A couple months ago J's brother and I decided that we were quite adept at being Sunday afternoon drinking buddies. As Jaimeson and I aren't together physically all that often, it's nice to still have a piece of family to kick it with and I'm sure J appreciates the joint calls he gets from us after two hours of laced tomato juice and sidecars. Ok, so J endures the calls and then starts planning how to exact revenge relative to his blog namesake.

(Skewers: Spicy olive, roasted red pepper, banana pepper, cherry tomato, Slim Jim with lime and celery stick on the side and a side car of Three Floyds Alpha King)

It was coming upon that time of the year again and D had custody of his little angel, who he shares quite amicably with his ex among others. Penelope is a special needs bulldog who's about 9 months old. She was paralyzed by a vicious vascular virus but has made a massive comeback.

She still needs to wear diapers and forgets to use her backlegs sometimes but she's a sweetheart, playful and we knew she'd benefit greatly from my patch of grass and time to run run scoot run around. So we forgo the $5 Bloody Mary's, make our own, I don't have to change out of my running clothes and there's a puppy coming? In. I based my Bloody Mary recipe on Smitten Kitchen's only a little heavier on the heat/hooch.

Not being a total amateur and having just had a magical brunch the day before, I was also prepared to provide lunch for our Alpha Kings and hoochjuice. I went a little classier than the term "hoochjuice" (which I'm pretty sure I made up/is redundant) with Roasted Shrimp and Arugula salad with avocado and a lemon vinaigrette. We also reprised the baked eggs because I already had everything chopped and they are so easy and delicious and perfect and haven't you made them yet? As spring-->summer lunches go, I'll stand by this one. It was delicious and just filling enough.

Honey wasn't even scared by Pen after awhile. Her boyfriends were but Pen was pretty oblivious. I mean look at her....she sits like a person.

It was another great day in the garden. And my nap afterward was at least as good. Fini :)

The Kind of Magic You Can Eat

I think by now you've all realized that I'm capable of fairly extensive degrees of geekdom. And not in the sense that I can currently or ever could do calculus in my sleep (or awake for that matter). More in the sense that I get very excited about a wide assortment of things, from Greek mythology to science fiction to previews. And I fall to pieces over animals and babies (so sometimes I'm more a cliche than a geek but mox nix).

At my core, I love stories and if it's not a story about food, I'm confident in my abilities to make it about food. Case in point was when I was invited to see the new Harry Potter exhibit at the Museum of Science & Industry this weekend. I loved the books. I've loved the films. I was more than on-board...I was enthused and had a kitchen at my disposal to express that enthusiasm.

48 hours after the 7th book came out, Cam and Amanda came over for my first Harry Potter-themed meal. That's right, the one from Saturday was not my first. Go ahead and soak that in.
The menu at that point was butterbeer (cream soda, butterscotch schnapps and light beer), Quidditch Pie (Shepard's Pie) and Chocolate Frog Trifle.We had all finished at that point (having read straight through the night) and were predictably dying to discuss.

Saturday was a touch removed from that desperation. Still with a sleepless night (thanks to the inspiration that only strikes while delirious) but no surprises. Just an excuse to entertain some of my favorite girls on the first fully glorious Chicago weekend in a long while. And thus I was able to concentrate on the food (with some brainstorm help from fellow Potter-fiend Homemaker's Habitat).

Conjure Your Own Cauldron

We had a spread that would make Alan Rickman jealous. Each ramekin was greased and had a sliver of day old baguette in the bottom. Then came a layer of Pioneer Woman's Creamed Spinach to coat it. Then any combination of the following:

• Sauteed mushrooms (obviously)
• Diced bacon
• Chopped chives
• Roasted red pepper
• Cherry tomatoes
• Goat Cheese
• Appenzeller (like Gruyere but better)

Once everyone was filled up, we kissed the tops with a little cream and cracked an egg on top. 15 minutes at 425 is perfection and I've never served an easier brunch. I based it off this recipe by Scott Peacock for Gourmet.

Gorgeous, easy and everyone can have it their way. Automatic portion control. My kind of recipe.

Slytherin Asparagus (purple and green, bro). But then there were sweet little ribbons of orange zest, inspired by this adorable French accent and helpful cooking video (like listening to my HS French teach Mr. Suffren but without any added pressure). Roasted for 10 minutes at 425. Olive oil, sea salt, ground pepper and ...I couldn't give them the evil house name. I chickened out. They're too lovely for Crab and Goyle anyway.

This one was very HH. A Hufflepuff Pancake and the perfect excuse to break out my new cast iron pan! It came out somewhere between a Dutch Baby and a crepe but as those are both good things, I can't really call it a miss. It didn't bubble up to the degree I'd have liked but powdered sugar and preserves did it very very well.

Gryffindor Bellinis. Too early-ish for butterbeers but peach and strawberry purees with bubbles? Totally appropriate. Rita Skeeter would definitely have been in on this. I made the purees that morning and it was a really nice, fresh touch. Just fruit, little water, little sugar and done. I drank the purees straight when the champagne ran out/it was time to go to the museum. Cam is mixing it up with both team colors in one glass (wine glasses are new from Pop Pop- thanks Arnie Baby!).

The creamed spinach process from the night before. Ree's not even attempting healthy at this point but each person only had about a tablespoon so I'm not feeling all that bad. Although we did re-purpose the leftovers into spinach dip during happy hour that night....

Last but certainly not least...Butterbeer Banana Muffins (with Dementor-Inhibiting Dark Chocolate Chips). And a recipe because you've certainly been patient enough. The following uses Sassy Radish's Bourbon-Spiked Banana Bread as a base which she apparently adapted from Martha. In case you weren't already excited enough.

Butterbeer Banana Muffins

• 1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, at room temperature
  
• 3/4 cup granulated sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 1 1/2 cups unbleached flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup mashed very ripe bananas
• 1/2 cup sour cream
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla ( I was out so I scraped the seeds from 1/2 a Madagascar bourbon soaked vanilla bean. It totally worked in case that's part of your pantry scene. Also- I'd like to buy you lunch.)
• 1 Tablespoon Butterscotch Schnapps
• 2 Tablespoons Meyers Dark Rum
• 2/3 cup dark chocolate chips

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line a muffin tin with wrappers, set aside. In an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add eggs, and beat to incorporate.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, and salt. Add to the butter mixture, and mix until just combined. Add bananas, sour cream, schnapps, rum and vanilla; mix to combine. Stir in chocolate chips. Pour into muffin pan that's either been greased or lined with muffin wrappers.
3. Bake until a cake tester inserted into the center of the muffin comes out clean or only with shiny chocolate remnants, about 30 minutes. Let rest in pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a rack to cool.

It could totally be that people were just humoring me but brunch and the muffins were a big hit and no one had the soul sucked out by the infamous guardians of Azkaban. My job here is done.

Amanda got some forbidden photography from the exhibit! Buckbeak, the cemetary (RIP Cedric), Harry and Voldemort's wands below!

-Geek Out