Brent's dad raises pet cows. I call them pets because after several years of raising a good 40 or 50 head of cattle he has only once actually butchered something for himself (and family). And, that poor little cow was actually blind. Either the coyotes or bears or Browns were gonna get that little cow and I'm guessing Wally opted for the more humane option. Having seen and heard the way Walter talks to and about his cows I know they live a
Last week I finally called up a few friends and told them to set aside next Wednesday for "Last Chance Ranch" roast dinner.
Yesterday I spent all day either preparing or thinking about preparing the meal and this is what I served:
Ranch Biscuits (mum's recipe)
Pickled beats and pickled cucumbers
Butter honeyed carrots and corn (corn was a gift from the Ranch and I shucked it before freezing it last week)
Maple butter turnips
IGA peppercorn gravy (yes it was out of a package because I burnt the drippings, which is why I also did not make yorkshire pudding)
Last Chance Ranch Roast (rump roast)
Maple Autumn pie for dessert (aka all the nectarines, pears & apples that need to evade the fruit flies from my kitchen; crust was Uncle Arnie's recipe)
The roast was ready 1 3/4 hours early but still tasted quite lovely by the time we sat down to eat.
|My Dining Room Table|