My older daughter has been wanting her own dog for quite some time now. A small dog, she said. A beagle.

“You’ll have to pay for it,” we said. “It will be expensive. Food, shots, the works. Do you really want to pour all your money into a dog?”

“Yes,” she said.

So we started a leisurely search. We looked at ads in the paper and researched small dogs online.

Then yesterday she asked me to put something on Facebook. I obliged. “My daughter is in the market for a border terrier puppy,” I wrote.

By evening, we had a lead. There were some mix puppies at a pet store in town. (I was not aware that our town had a pet store. Which just shows that we were, indeed, leisurely going about this puppy-finding business.)

I called the store this morning, got the information, and called my husband. “I may go over to that part of town later,” my husband said.

About fifteen minutes later, the phone rang.“It’s pretty cute. And there’s one left. You should bring the kids in to see it this morning.”

Only then did I tell my daughter that we maybe found a puppy for her. She was over the moon.

“My stomach hurts,” she half-whimpered, half-giggled on the way there. “I’m too excited.”

And then we got to the store and there was this ugly, ratty dog and no cute puppies and I was like, Is my husband out of his mind? But then a guy took us out back and there she was. My daughter scooped her up and that was that.

She is a beagle-Jack Russell-border collie mix. They say that although she’s only ten weeks, she’s nearly full size already. Of course, since we rushed headlong into this purchase, we know nothing about this sort of dog. She could turn out to be a yappy, howly stupid thing. Or she could be sweet as pie.

I’m hoping for pie.

PS. Her name is Charlotte.

PPS. I am in love with her floppy ears.

This same time, years previous: oatmeal jacked up, why I don’t teach my kids science, losing my marbles

The other night my daughter asked to make something special for dessert. She didn’t have any clear ideas—she just wanted to cook.

“Well,” I said, “there’s grape filling in the fridge…. Oh, I have an idea! Watch this.” And then we proceeded to beat cream cheese and whip cream and thicken grapes and toast graham crackers.

I instructed her to get the wine glasses from the cupboard and showed her how to fill them—a blob of cream cheese, a plop of grape sauce, a sprinkling of crackers—repeating the layers until everything was used up.

It ended up looking like a put-together dessert rather than the hodge-podge of ingredients that it was. It tasted right classy, too—rich, fruity, and cool.

Grape Parfaits
This looks a lot more complex than it actually is. I was just winging it—no recipe and no measurements, using up what I had on hand.

No grape filling? Sub in another pie filling such as sour cherry, blueberry, rhubarb and strawberry, apricot, etc.

For the grape filling:
2 cups of grape sauce, skins in, seeds removed
1-2 tablespoons Therm-Flo or cornstarch
½ cup sugar

Combine everything and bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring constantly. Remove from heat and chill.

For the cream cheese:
8 ounces cream cheese
½ cup confectioner’s sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup whipping cream

Whip the cream. In a separate bowl, cream together the cream cheese, confectioner’s sugar, and vanilla. Fold in the whipped cream.

For the graham cracker crumbs:
1 ½ packages graham crackers, ground into crumbs
2 tablespoons sugar
4 tablespoons butter

Melt the butter in a skillet. Add the graham cracker crumbs and sugar. Cook, stirring constantly, until the crumbs are toasty and a couple shades darker. Immediately remove from the skillet so they don’t burn.

To assemble:
Get out 6 to 8 of your fanciest goblets. Put a spoonful of cream cheese mixture in each, then a spoonful of grape sauce, and then a sprinkling of graham cracker crumbs. Repeat the process until all the components are used up or the glasses are full, whichever comes first.

This same time, years previous: chocolate yogurt cake,  roasted tomato sauce, pasta with sauteed peppers and onions

A number of different sources contributed to this meal.

The grilled zucchini wedges and lemon salt (brilliant) came from Ree. The grilled onion came from an NPR interview in which a chef said his favorite thing to grill was red onion. (I think I’m beginning to see why.) The bag of chopped cooked chicken came from the depths of my freezer—

Speaking of freezers, the other day I sent my older son to the basement to fetch some more empty quart jars.

“Mom!” he yelled from the foot of the basement stairs. “There’s a buzzing noise down here! It’s really, really loud! I’m not going in there!”

So I had to go investigate. It was the upright freezer alarm. The door had been left partially open (my husband accepts full responsibility). All the stuff in the door was thawed. The bags of corn and green beans and containers of pesto that were sitting along the edges of the shelves were softening. I rearranged things, shut the door tight, and in a couple hours the food was frozen up nice and hard again. It wasn’t too much of a tragedy, lucky us.

Also, speaking of freezers, both my freezers are filled to the gills. I can’t make bread or cakes or anything that might need to be frozen—there simply isn’t room. Locating the wheat germ or a jar of green peppers is like a 3D game of Tetris, but with frozen-stiff fingers and scraped knuckles. Every time I get out a box of strawberries, a jar of tea concentrate, or a chicken, I feel like celebrating. More space!

So that’s the freezer status.

Back to the meal. You can play around with the ingredients here—grilled red pepper! crunchy green beans! tuna!—but the lemon-salt is key. It kicked the flavors over the top.

Pasta with Lemon-Salted Grilled Zucchini and Onions
Inspired by Ree and others

1 pound spiral pasta
2 thick slices of red onion
2 medium-small zucchinis, quartered lengthwise
2 cups cooked chicken pieces, warmed
2 lemons (zest from both, juice from one)
salt and black pepper
a couple glugs of olive oil
½ cup each, mozzarella cheese and freshly grated Parmesan cheese
½ cup torn fresh basil

Put the zucchinis and red onion slices in a pan and toss with a glug of olive oil, the zest from one lemon, the juice of half the lemon, and some salt and black pepper.

Grill the onion and zucchinis on a medium-high grill. Turn the zucchini wedges every couple minutes (or so) so that all three sides get grill marks. Grill the red onion slices, turning once. Remove veggies from heat and chop roughly.

Zest the second lemon and add ½ teaspoon of salt (give or take). Chop the lemon with the salt. Now you have lemon salt! Sprinkle over the veggies.

Cook the pasta according to package instructions. Drain and put in a serving bowl. Add the grilled veggies (making sure to scrape in every last speckle of lemon salt), the chicken pieces, cheeses, and basil. Drizzle with olive oil and the juice from the remaining half lemon. Toss to combine.

This same time, years previous: 2011 garden stats and notes, topping for apple crisp