Happy anniversary to us

I was busy in the kitchen this morning messing with fickle Mr. BeeBo, the mechanical god of gnocchi. Today is our 21st anniversary, and that means a plate of gnocchi with Italian sausage red sauce for dinner. If anyone ever asked John what he wanted for a last meal (heaven forbid) it would be homemade gnocchi.

Me?  Well...probably not. I'd rather gobble down a poor elderly Maine lobster, drenched in butter. I will have spaghetti tonight, and save the sticky gnocchi for the one who really appreciates it.

Anyway, Janice, I'm still using the indestructible hand-cranked BeeBo machine you sent as a wedding gift.  Everyone knows how fussy I am in the kitchen, but BeeBo has not been cleaned in 21 years.  Every now and then I'll chip away at the dried dough with a toothpick for a few minutes, then I get bored and put it back in the old box.

It took about 10 years just to break it in and I think the patina of crud keeps the dough from sticking to its complicated gear innards.

Dessert is not cake. Instead, I made an almond-plum baked tart (Germans would call it fruit kuchen) with a jar of the plums I canned last summer.

 I have to admit, it looks pretty impressive for a non-baker like me.

 Flash back, 21 years to a different day of sweets.