So I am pushing the cart along at the grocery store...fighting the Super Bowl shopping crowds..and I am thinking.....pork chops....with I don't know....broccoli ?...That doesn't sound too good....and I am over in the meat section...have the pork chops in my cart...and then I see it. Lurking in the meat section. A beautiful rib eye steak. One and a half pounds..perfect for 2.Jackpot. So I dump the pork chops, plop the beef in the cart ,head to the produce and what do I see there? Fresh asparagus. Double jackpot.
Came home and got out the cast iron skillet. That's what I am cooking the roast in.
After the roast comes out of the oven I will let it rest while I whirl up some yorkshire pudding batter...I'll heat the cooking fat (sorry, my new diet) and add the batter. Let it bake till it puffs way up and turns golden brown and serve it with au jus. I also got fresh horseradish and sour cream to go along side. Hello Mr. Toast...I think I am in your territory with this meal...being english and all..am I right , my friend?
As far as the asparagus goes I am just roasting it in the oven with olive oil and some of my precious pink sea salt.
I have been making yorkshire pudding and roast beef since I was in high school and still living at home. And I ALWAYS used the recipe from my FAVORITE cookbook. "The Treasury Of Great Recipes" by Mary and Vincent Price. You can see how soiled the pages are...well worn and well loved....indeed.
The drawing for the sprig tea cup is Monday and your response has overwhelmed me. I saw some cute Valentine cookies today and a tin of Spring Cherry tea so I'll sweeten the pot with those goodies too..A little bit of Spring Cheer. I think we could all use some of that right about now.
Thank you all for your kind comments. It makes me feel good knowing that there are so many wonderful people out in this world. I am so lucky to have met each and every one of you. You're THE BEST !
the night will never stay, the night will still go by, though with a million stars you pin it to the sky; though you bind it with the blowing wind, and buckle it with the moon, the night will slip away like sorrow or a tune.