Recipe: Garlic Bread
Last week was Elizabeth’s birthday. She
turned 33 is now about the age I still think I am, until I’m rudely reminded otherwise by the image in the mirror of the old man staring back at me each morning. For her birthday, she suggested that the whole family become Trappists (which is what they call people who do trapezery, right?) by taking a class at Trapeze U together.
This is not a surprising request on her part. She has been a gymnast, diver, and dancer most of her life. Considering her rapidly advancing age, she retains a significant portion of her skill, flexibility, and agility. As evidence of that I present her immediate response to her brother’s taunt (or implied dare) of “no way can you still do an aerial” at a family gathering a few years ago:
My family is blessed/cursed with an inner hair-trigger which causes most of us to immediately respond with “Hell Yes!” when almost anyone suggests almost anything that sounds like it might be fun, exciting, and/or maybe illegal. This is no exception. I’m writing this before the fact, but as of now it looks like we’ve got at least 6 family member participants in the class. We’ll see how many actually strap in and fly …
And now, I’m back from the Trapeze 101/Birthday extravaganza and can report that we had 6 people in the class from our group; Elizabeth, her sister Sarah, son Bennett, husband Jason, friend Rebecca, and me. Massive fun was had by all, and four of our 6 earned the title of “Flyer” by completing “the catch”; Sarah, Rebecca, Elizabeth, and Jason (the only male in the entire class to even attempt it). Because she was the Birthday Girl, here is her last run, where she makes “the catch” and almost makes “the transfer back”.
This garlic bread takes about 10 minutes from start to finish, costs maybe 20% more than the store-bought sub-food garlic-bread-like objects sold in the foil pouches and tastes at least 100% better. We aren’t even going to talk about frozen “Texas Toast” or the like.
I’ve bought the foil-pouched variety at the grocery store before, and I’ll Never Do That Again.
What? You thought I was referring to the trapeze? Oh, Hell no! I’m going to get back up on that bar in another couple of months and learn to fly like the rest of them. You can be sure I’ll let you know how that goes.