Evita has left the building, as has Billie Joe before her, and I am bereft. And that was *before* I went over and saw Miss T's entry into this week's Iron Chefettes competition.
I considered just conceding. Save myself the time of blogging my defeat.
But then I realized--she might have a spectacular secret weapon, but I do too.
Perhaps Evita isn't gone after all.
Bwaa haa haa.
As Miss T. notes, we decided to do an abbreviated version of IC this week, what with end of summer and State Fair and our being generally very busy because we are Such Important People, so only four dishes. I pretty much went with the KISS principle (Keep It Simple, Stupid), again noting that when fresh produce is this divine, it's heresy to muck with it too much.
How about a nice cucumber sandwich? The spread is sour cream, garlic powder, white pepper, and fresh dill, spread on thin-sliced tea bread. Of course a little extra fresh dill is never a bad thing. Yummy and refreshing.
Steak fajitas, with fresh onions, sweet peppers, and just a little bit of hot pepper. We are big fajita eaters at Chez Knit Think. The beef, I might note (she says with just a touch of condescension in her voice), was also purchased at the Mill City Market, from a local kind farmer who is nice to his cows.
We also got some lovely new potatoes. I contemplated some rather complicated potato dishes, but in the end went back to my basics Bible:
The Fannie Farmer Cookbook. This is a great beginning, all-around, not too fussy or fancy, cookbook. I found just what I wanted: Parsley Potatoes.
Essentially, you cook your potatoes (cookbook says boil, I steamed), then toss with butter, fresh parsley, and coarse salt. Copious amounts of butter. Take what you think would be plenty of butter and double it. Then you're somewhat close to having enough. Needless to say, it's a darn fine dish.
Finally, the recipe that took the most "work."
Only because of the chopping and slicing. Potato-dill bread spread with hummus (from Holy Land Deli) and layered with crumbled feta, fresh red onion, cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, and kalamata olives. This is a lunch fit for kings.
So, yeah. Although it was all good--all very good--it's not as impressive as what Miss T. concocted this week.
But, as I said, I do have a secret weapon. It's not really a fair weapon; I'm playing loose with the rules here--more Sopranos-style than Iron Chef-style. But desperate times require desperate measures.
Go. Enjoy. You'll be lightheaded with delight.