Let's be honest, I was aiming for basil ice cream, but somewhere in the process of heating 8 egg yolks and 4 cups of milk (in my defense - to a precise 175 degrees! and never did it boil!)I made scrambled eggs instead. In one of the greatest displays of optimism I have ever attempted, I then threw it in the ice cream maker anyways. So far, it's still chugging away and the whole thing is disconcertingly yellow (it should be green) and liquid (it should be solidifying). It just goes to prove my suspicions that I am not ready for epicurious. However, I can taste the potential lurking beyond the egg-ness of it all - when my poor hardworking window-ledge basil plant regroups from this tragedy and springs forth new leaves, I'll try basil ice cream again. I will not double the recipe. Or scramble the yolks. Or skip an important "cool-down" step in the recipe that Joshua helpfully pointed out to me after it was all in the ice-cream maker.
The Great Basil Egg Ice Cream Debacle is something that I kind of regret happening on our anniversary. Besides one absolutely horrendous Moroccan eggplant dish I cooked for Joshua the summer we got married, I have surprised myself with a love of cooking and a knack for it. For someone who never wanted to domesticate, finding myself at 23 with a husband and a Kitchen-Aid mixer is sometimes overwhelming, usually surprising, and in all ways a blessing. Until I met Joshua, I had literally never thought about getting married. I was planning on moving to New York City to live in a studio apartment and write the Great American Novel, and maybe get a cat and possibly adopt a baby later in life. By myself. And for those of you who know me now, this sounds absolutely ridiculous - I am clearly fulfilled by my roles as wife, soon-to-be nurse, and future baby mama. I also hate cats and studio apartments, so it wouldn't have worked out anyways. Sorry, NYC.
Joshua and I celebrated four years of togetherness in March, and now we have been married almost as long as we've been a couple. We have had mostly bliss and hilarity - but also sheer exhaustion at the effort it takes to make a marriage and a family and a life together work. We are both fiercely independent people, and compromise does not come easily to us. God has broken our pride through the challenges of marriage, and has softened us both into more compassionate and gracious people. We still manage to do our fair share of whining (me) and complaining (me) and taking our relationship for granted (me again!) but we have also grown so much that sometimes I cannot believe I am still the same girl who walked down the aisle to Etta James singing "At Last". That girl had no idea what a privilege it would be to fall asleep every night next to a loving husband, and also no idea how annoying it would be when that man rolled over and pulled off all her covers. EVERY NIGHT!
To Joshua, the man who pulls off my covers, laughs at my jokes, eats the food that I make (and some that I ruin), supports me, doesn't pull the plug on my Starbucks addiction, gives me space and pulls me close, prays for me and loves me and tries every day to be just a little bit better...
you are my everything and i love you more today than I ever thought possible two years ago...
Sorry about the basil eggs...maybe next year.
1 comment:
amen to the part about the starbucks addiction. i don't think our marriage would survive as well if steve didn't understand and support the fact that my car goes there on autopilot every morning (literally. last week i decided i was going to go straight to work since i was running late; next thing i knew i was at the drive-up window). check out www.cupcouture.com to see my new starbucks accessory. ;) happy anniversary!
Post a Comment