The smell of hot pine needles during the day, and the night so still you could practically hear the stars crackling overhead, created an instant sense of peace. Only one night away from home, and I come back relaxed...less worried about "gotta", "shouldda", and all the rest of the self-inflicted pressures.
I did not make any of the meals. I just enjoyed what everyone else created or brought. And we spent most of our time, it seemed, eating. And drinking wine. And eating some more. And going for a small hike in order to eat some more.
One friend made a wonderful lunch of chicken, snow peas, scallions, onions and garlic with oyster sauce with a kind of Phillipine noodle, (which, after a few glasses of wine, I forgot to photograph). But I somehow managed to take this shot of the dessert.
The chocolate cups were purchased. I cut up the strawberries. She mixed cream cheese, whipping cream, sour cream and sugar together, added some Baileys Irish and spooned the mixture over the top. The proportions? I'm still waiting for them.
That's what I mean about "shouldda". After a weekend in the country, it doesn't really matter. I would still make this, even without knowing the proportions. After all, my taste buds have never failed to discern the so-so from the divine.
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