It’s Sunday again, the day of recovery! I spent the last few days at the Subdued Stringband Jamboree, field camping amongst a hoard of friendly, sweaty, facepaint-wearing, dancing maniacs (myself included, of course). I got approximately 3 hours of sleep last night, as the group of campers next door to us never really made it to bed, but chose instead to wake the camp with drunken renditions of “House of the Rising Sun” (The Animals) and “I’ve Been Everywhere” (Johnny Cash). At 5 a.m. I rolled out of C’s and my wonderfully cozy blanket-nest and stumbled out of the tent to sip orange juice and gnaw on some week-old chocolate chip banana bread, watching their enthusiastic wakefulness (Dude. It’s 5 a.m. and you’re not wearing shirts, you’re screaming about your personal problems and loudly coming onto each other. There’s two guitars involved, I’ve already pieced together your major likes and dislikes, you’ve proclaimed your unabashed love of Japanese noodle-eating competitions, and you were probably major contributers to the 5:20 a.m. bottle rocket show. Let’s just say watching them try to set up a tent was AWESOME).
So, I know, I know, this has nothing to do with food. Here’s the thing, guys! I tried, I REALLY TRIED to make food related to this. C and I spent all Thursday night preparing food to take with us on the trip, and I was all, “hey, I’m gonna write down these recipes we made up, take the photos, and then take photos of us AT THE FESTIVAL eating the food! I am so goddamned smart.” Here’s what we made:
- Bacon balsamic penne pasta salad
- Sesame marinated steak with bell peppers and onions for wraps
- Blackberry cobbler
- Tomato, mozzarella, and basil salad with olive oil and balsamic (whoa. Did NOT hold up well in the cooler. But we were strapped for options and if you ignored the texture, it still tasted good, so we ate it. LIKE CHAMPS.)
We also brought along some mango-chicken sausage (Seriously. Trader Joe’s. Never go out of business), chocolate-mint Newman-Os, bananas, nectarines, some banana bread I forgot that I made forever ago, and a ton of savory pastries from our work. Damn, those pastries came in handy when I was too sweaty and overheated to function but knew I must DRINK WATER AND EAT FOOD LIKE A RESPONSIBLE ADULT.
So anyway, by the time we finished prepping those dishes it was dark out and I was sleepy and had to work the next day. So I went to work, rushed through it, and took off for the festival an hour after I got off. Upon arriving I was like, HEY C, HOW’S ABOUT YOU DO ALL THE WORK WHILE I DRINK THIS WHITE WINE!?!?!?
But I forgot a bottle opener, so he was like, “Listen women, chill. Here, I’ll open the bottle for you. Sit down and drink that before you hurt yourself.” So I did, and the rest of the weekend was so full of 95 degree scorching sunshine and fiddles and cellos and naked babies and Bullet bourbon and sunburns and swimming in glacial water that I TOTALLY SPACED and failed to take pictures of most everything. So here, have a picture of the cobbler we made and brought along.
We scavenged the blackberries from a secret path to a secret swimming hole on Lake Whatcom. We got bitten to hell by the mosquitos and punctured more than a few times, but it was worth it. This was so sweet and wonderful, though, our mini individual serving we baked off in a tiny casserole dish was so much better warm from the oven.
And here’s why I failed so miserably at food photos:
So. It is still absurdly hot outside and right now my homemade pizza dough is rising in my favorite blue bowl on the countertop at home. I’ll be making pizzas tonight and hopefully I’ll be able to get my shit together and actually post on that, since it’s relevant and all. Until then I’ll be sitting in front of a fan in my favorite local joint, sipping on uncharacteristically girly drinks and trying not to let my eyes dry out. Damn, these fans are strong.