Memorial Day, graduations, The Hotel's a busy place this weekend! I made my third trip to the grocery store in two days. I ran down Krack St. in my apron this morning to get my guest a newspaper (which I had to pay for with my card because I had zero cash. Heh, heh). My hands will smell like onions for the next three days because I forgot to wear gloves again when I made my potato-onion frittata this morning. I spent hours finding the perfect kid-friendly recipes for breakfast that weren't just pancakes or french toast (have you ever tried to flip pancakes for 8 people when you are all alone? Trust me, even wearing an apron won't help you with that one. Thank goodness for overnight french toast casseroles!)
So, how do I feel about all this busyness? To be honest...I love every minute of it. Why is it that the busyness at The Hotel is bearable, nay, even enjoyable, but any other packed schedule makes me want to hide in a closet?
Part of the busyness is a couple of repeat guests. They were here last year around the same time. We are on a first-name-card-exchanging basis & they get recognized at the grocery store, which is the equivalent of the local beauty parlor. Tell me, at what other hotel does this happen?
Because we aren't just another hotel. Or another bed & breakfast, for that matter. This is The Hotel. Call me crazy, but there's something about the golden light that seeps into the parlor in late afternoons, & the way the wood floor in the kitchen gleams, & the foot traffic that passes on this little corner dead-end street that affects people. I'm a much nicer person when I'm wearing an apron in The Hotel kitchen. No, Wes, I will not wear an apron at home.
It's hard to explain what I mean; it's like some instinctual hostess gene kicks in when the apron goes on. Suddenly, all I want to do is whip up creamy things with whisks, & knead bread by hand, & pluck basil leaves from a sunny windowsill. All thoughts of deadlines & rushedness disappear. It's quite pleasant really.
That's sort of the train of thought I was travelling on when I pulled out my carton of strawberries. (Yes, strawberries again. What can I say? It's May in the Midwest.) As you can imagine, since they've been the star of the last two posts, another day would find them doing one final job composting the flower bed. And I wasn't about to let that happen. I already had some blackberry lemon muffins (via smittenkitchen.com) for the guest's daily snack, but I couldn't let those strawberries go to waste. No, I was bound and determined they would be eaten & enjoyed.
So, four ingredients later, I had some lovely looking cream cheese-stuffed strawberries. I nearly burst my apron strings when my guests came sheepishly back for fourths.
*I didn't really use a recipe for the strawberries. First, I cut the tops off the strawberries so they would stand up, then I made a "+" on the tips, not cutting all the way through & fanned them out a little. For the filling, I used approximately 4 ounces of softened cream cheese, dashed in a little vanilla, poured in powdered sugar (probably a 1/4 c.), & mixed it up. I added powdered sugar til it tasted sweet enough. Piped the filling into strawberries. Then I sprinkled chopped pecans on top.
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