author: Nicole J. LeBoeuf

I'm full of the how-tos this week! Tatting instructions on Monday, and now on Wednesday, a recipe.

Here's the set up: First off, I'm a roller derby skater and I tend to come home SUPER ATHLETE HUNGRY from practice. Secondly, one of my teammates is a farmer. Actually, more than one, but right now I'm specifically talking about the skater who raises pigs. Mainly she breeds them for shows, but when their breeding and show careers come to an end, their ultimate destiny is sausage. The sausage's ultimate destiny is in the bellies of hungry skaters and their families and friends.

(She also raises rabbits, the meat of which she sells to local restaurants. And also to you, if you want some. I acquired a 3-pounder and modified a gumbo z'herbes recipe into a rabbit & andouille gumbo this past winter. It was amazing.)

Tonight, after a particularly hard-working Bombshells practice, I wrote out my check and picked up my order of ten pounds breakfast sausage and ten pounds Italian sausage When I got home, 19 pounds of sausage went into the freezer, and one pound Italian sausage went into the microwave to defrost.

Here's what happened next:

• Melt two tsp butter in medium sauce pan over medium-high heat.
• Brown defrosted sausage in the butter.
• Add half an onion, chopped into rings, and cook until soft and semi-translucent.
• Stir in:
  • two tsp flour
  • a generous soup spoon of MMLocal pear-sauce (applesauce would have worked fine)
  • a generous coffee spoon of Dijon mustard
• Pour in the better part of a bottle of dark beer. I had a bottle of Uinta Organic Baba Black Lager hanging around that I wasn't looking forward to drinking because it's a tad too bitter for my tastes. It went into the pot.
• Reduce heat and allow to simmer until broth is thick and/or you just can't stand it anymore.

I am devouring the results with a spoon. It is ambrosia. A more patient and/or less hungry Fleur de Beast might have let the broth thicken to a sauce consistency and then made sloppy joes for dinner. Unfortunately, there are no hamburger or hot-dog buns in the house, and I'm both impatient and hungry. Thus the spoon.

I suspect food coma will set in good and hard after I'm done with my spoon and my sausage. Therefore, good night!