A holiday fruit salad... the way my mom made it
I'm sitting here wondering... is there a limit to how much butter a person can handle? I walked into the kitchen yesterday armed with 2 pounds of butter which somehow instantly disappeared into the parade of my usual holiday concoctions (I tend to think of it as my own little trifecta of holiday doughs... rich and unrestrained): Tourte Milanaise for breakfast (this year I managed to tackle my very own puff pastry thanks to a tattered copy of The Joy of Cooking which expertly guided me through the process), Tourtière for dinner (with an all-butter spelt crust), and of course my mom's boozy, eggy, yeasty, buttery Baba au Rhum ... (my belly is already all warmed up from the most recent one). It would all be fine and dandy but the thing is, this year I'm spending a quiet, snowy, secluded Christmas with my love... which means... there are only two of us... which means... we're well on our way to chowing down, unaided , 2 pounds of butters worth of Christmas baking. Yeesh...