Baked Beans and Brisket in a BBQ Stand
Today is my anniversary, and I have now been married for 31 years. I am waiting for my partner in crime to come home so we can go out for barbecue, because every marriage is better if it is liberally sprinkled with slow-cooked meats. Once, in Texas, we went to a country barbecue place that served you the meat in brown paper with only a few slices of white bread, and this nutritionally lacking meal was perfect in every respect. I know that I have my cholesterol test on Friday and have been cleaning up my act for some time now, but come on, it's my anniversary.
I have finished the body of my Wallaby up to the armholes, and am half done with one of the sleeves. It is going faster than I expected, and it turns out that my choice of red is good, as the mother-to-be hates pink, I hear. I like babies in red, and you can spot them easier as they make a break for it and run like the wind toward any danger that happens to be around.
I will be pasting up Grandma G's recipes for months to come, there are so many of them. I really like the looks of the binder, especially the lithography from the forties and early fifties. I have quite a few versions of Betty Crocker displayed in old ads, and she started out sort of middle aged, got younger, hipper, and yuppier. I am not sure what she looks like now, I'll have to make an effort to find the new one.
OK, he just came home.