It’s Sunday, thank the good Lord. The bug doesn’t jump on Sundays. That’s our arcane parlance for days when the stock market is closed. You see, in addition to being retired from working for other people, we actually work at warp speed for ourselves. Five days a week, excepting holidays, Buck and I have four computers up and running, high speed internet connecting our home network, three wireless laptops and a wired desktop streaming data, trade screens . . . and my web log somewhere in there. It bloggles my mind.
I love the weekends. Just for play. No trades, puts, calls or market research. Rather, walks in the woods and a visit to Joe Patti’s Seafood to reel in our dinner. This visit, we took a number and looked at the bounty of fish and shellfish. We went in with one idea and came out with another. laid out on the ice like diamond necklaces at Tiffany’s were red snapper, scamp, sea bass, mahi mahi, amberjack and group, whole loins of tuna and swordfish, freshly steamed lobsters and pristine scallops, both sea and bay. nestled in a long ice shelf were pints of raw oysters, lump and claw crab. A crowd had lined up in front of the huge vats of shrimp and they were noisily debating the relative merits of bay, gulf or the sweet Royal Reds. I had planned on swordfish until Buck spied some of the prettiest boned flounder either of us had ever seen.
Back at home, I mixed unsalted butter, Dijon mustard, grated lemon zest and fresh dill into a paste, spread it on the fish and broiled it for about seven minutes. We ate it with slow roasted tomatoes, potatoes and creamed spinach with garlic. Simple pleasures, y’all.