Meat and Potatoes - done UP.

Let me start with: my feet hurt.

Due to a combination of the two things this is all about: running and food.

I spent Saturday morning running the roots, the rocks, the rambling road of Beatty mountainbike park with some friends. I was supposed to do my long run Sunday but opted to switch it up and do my 15 at Beatty what with the fabulous company, good weather, and zero time deadlines to meet. Got a chance to try out a new means of getting quick calories while running: Stinger products. Amazing... not only did I have enough energy to make it through the end of my run (thanks to Caitlin giving me some of the good stuff) but I was hyper for the next few hours. I was going going going energizer bunny style for quite some time thanks to the honeyed goodness. The chews come highly recommended.

Sunday morning we were up early again (but thankfully not before 7 am for the first time in quite a while) so the boy and I could pound out a 9 miler before our day really got going. The first 4.5 were that weird, I-know-I-should-feel-better-than-this feeling but once we hit the turnaround... it was smooth sailing. Got a nice rhythm and a nice pace going back to the car.

And then the day hit.

Grabbed a Power Shower (meaning, no frills shower time) split a zone bar and hit the road for The Village Church with Scott Waters. After an insightful hour that I enjoyed immensely... we made it to one of our favorite spots in Charlotte: Cafe Monte to split a badass omelette and some brioche french toast. The french toast with berry compote was perfect - no sticky syrupy mess... just pure good crusty bread powdered and drizzled with pureed blackberries, raspberries, etc.

We then decided to go to Crate and Barrel for kicks and came to the conclusion that we need everything. Ok ok... not everything! The chef thought poached egg "pods" were frivolous and was skeptical of their real benefit or effectiveness in the kitchen. However, the furniture section slayed us. Sigh. Someday.

Hit up the Taj MaTeeter and began a meatloaf madness afternoon. Shopping with the boy is always a good time, I usually learn something new and leave feeling like I have accomplished something. Must be some ancient throwback to the days of hunter-gatherers.

We then descended on the kitchen and got going for the remainder of the day. I set to work making dough for the savory tarts we were preparing as a side dish and the boy handled the weekly hardboiled eggs for our breakfasts and chicken with leftover tagine sauce with vegetable rice for our lunches.

I proceeded to throw a fit when my dough turned out completely different than expected and tried to listen when told a dough that is meant to be rolled out SHOULD differ from a pat-in-the-pan dough. But I was having none of this. I was blaming myself for the end of the dinosaurs and everything that has gone wrong in the world since, up to and including this dough disaster.

For the record... the tart dough was perfect and made for a lighter crust for our savory tarts to be filled and eaten later in the evening.

The boy busied himself with the main course next. He chopped carrots (beautifully), onions, green bell peppers, and celery and mixed (or should I say, mushed) that with the lean ground turkey and lean ground veal. He threw in a handful of the freshly dried red peppers I brought him back from Arizona last week before adding a healthy dosage of ketchup, mustard, and worcestershire sauce. The meatloaf mixture was thrown on a silpat covered baking sheet and was ready for the oven.

Meannnnnwhile... shallots and mushrooms were combining in an aromatic free-for-all with some beef stock in a saucepan for the makings of some gravy.

We had been waiting for another sweet potato to be dropped off after we had come home only to find two moldy root vegetables slowly disintegrating in the cabinet. Yuck.

First I got a phone call, "Hey, Skip said Jeff asked for two sweet potatoes but this one was really big so he just bought one."

So arrived our sweet potato.

It was oblong-shaped.

And a little twisted.

And white.

I am not a vegetable-racist but I know that sweet potatoes are supposed to be orange. I had begun peeling the potato and promptly stopped. Unsure of what to do... it was too late for us to go out to the store and get another one. So the boy took one look at it and said, it will just have to do - whatever it is, we're using it.

As it turns out, there is such thing as a white sweet potato and it worked just fine. I chopped the one sweet potato we had and it's awkwardly white counterpart and sent the chunks to be prepped for roasting in the oven. Once they were softened up we mashed them in a large pan, shredded some gruyere over them, added s+p and fresh rosemary from the garden, and mixed in a very little amount of heavy cream. Once this mixture tasted to our liking, we mounded it into the tarts and topped it with a layer of shredded gruyere to hit the oven once more.

Finally... after a few hours... the meal came together beautifully. The tarts were gorgeous and a big hit with everyone around the table and the meatloaf didn't stand a chance of not getting eaten. A crusty 8-grain bread was toasted and soaked up the mushroom gravy in the way only a crusty 8-grain bread could.

Oh... and there was no dessert. BUT there was an appetizer.

Boy's mom brought pate from Dean and Deluca. I had never eaten it before and found it scrumptious. I was then told it was liver mousse. And I didn't care one bit.