Showered with Shrimp

Margy had to head south a bit for her sister's baby shower, and I tagged along to hang with the fellas.

It was a good time. I got to hear funny anecdotes about topics I don't often contemplate, like golf and shotguns, and then the menfolk reconnected with the ladies in the name of hauling all the gifts into the minivan. It was all very traditional and domestic, and doing a little bonding with Margy's family was a nice way to spend the day.

For dinner we headed to the home of Margy's other sister, the nonpregnant one (who's spent plenty of time with child in her day; she has three kids). We drank tasty white wine and munched pretzels with an amazing wasabi mustard, and then we had grilled shrimp.

Margy's brother-in-law made the shrimp, and they were delicious. He marinated them in, I believe, soy sauce and rice vinegar, adding a good shot of chili sauce, and then skewered them with pineapple and zucchini. I chatted with him while he did the grilling. A while into the process, as I stood in the kitchen and watched smoke billow up from under the closed grill lid outside, I was worried that the shrimp would overcook, but since I use charcoal it's easy for me to forget that a gas grill can take a little longer. As it turned out, everything was cooked perfectly -- the shrimp had some char, the zucchini were tender, and the pineapple was still firm. To make things even more outstanding, Margy's sis put out a big bowl of cheesy grits that she made in the rice cooker that we gave her last Christmas. I had thirds on those.

After the Lamb

For our post-Easter lunch, Margy's mom served lovely turkey BLTs and tomato soup.

Feaster

We had Easter with Margy's family. The weather was perfect, so we spent lots of time in her parents' yard, admiring the new growth.

Then the niece and nephews arrived, and it was time for an egg hunt. Twenty-four candy-filled plastic eggs hiding out among the grass and bushes. The kids zoomed around with their baskets, poking into every nook and cranny, yet only 23 eggs were found. Perhaps somewhere a groundhog is enjoying a Hershey's Kiss.

Dinner, served with champagne (a family tradition), was a nice leg of lamb cooked by Margy's mom. Margy's sister made a delicious salad with tangerines and black sesame seeds, and her aunt brought a rich potato gratin. I had seconds, but I could have had thirds. And then, after the fruit and homemade berry ice creams, I went downstairs and watched the end of Back to the Future with the kiddies.

McFly!

Good-Lookin' Lebkuchen

Margy's mom gave me a package of these cookies straight from Germany. It's a rich spice cookie baked on top of a wafer identical to the ones you get from a priest during Communion. Virtuously delicious.

To balance out the old angel-devil thing, there's chocolate on top.

Thanksgiving in Margytown

Margy made me use a photo of my dinner (just pre-gravy, I'm sorry to say), calling it more photogenic than her own. Which is actually an important point, since the Thanksgiving cook, Margy's mother -- my mother-in-law -- told me the only reason she made a whole turkey rather than a breast was that I like the dark meat.

That's pretty cool. I thanked her kindly, but still I doubt she understood exactly how important these matters are to me. (Out of respect, I was prepared to keep my whole-bird advocacy issues to myself if I had to, though it wouldn't have been easy.) I tried to let the chef see me go up for thirds, as a sign of my enthusiasm. I'm not sure she noticed, or heard my chair beginning to creak beneath me; she had a Belgian waffle, hot off the iron and sprinkled generously with powdered sugar, ready for me by 8:20 the next morning.

We drove home from Margy's hometown with the turkey's other leg wrapped in tinfoil. I made quick work of that one too.