Locked in... well, not really
In the morning, I didn't walk all the way out to the end of the gravel road. Callie and I ambled around the edge of the vineyard, even though it was sloppy wet and slippery. When we got about half way out, I heard loud gunshots not far away, so we retreated. Winter Sundays are hunt days.
Green but gray at the same time
Our cooking projects were bagels, using new techniques that were very successful. More about that later. We had some smoked trout in the fridge, and some fromage à tartiner, a.k.a. cream cheese. Making bagels involves boiling the dough before you bake it, so all the old windows in the house fogged up. As I said, it was chilly outside.
The neighbors' house is shuttered for the winter.
To go with the bagels and cream cheese, I made little spinach soufflés. Well, faux soufflés — more like timbales. No beating of egg whites required. Spinach, béchamel sauce, cheddar cheese (English cheddar, from SuperU, very good), and eggs.
Another December Sunday.