Above is a picture of our beloved pup Zuzu. Our innocent, sweet, harmless Zu. Don't be fooled my friends...
Perhaps I shall start this post by describing our previously laid out plans for Valentine's day: Andy and I planned to head to the Pawtucket Farmer's Market on Saturday morning to obtain some delicious grass-fed steaks, golden fingerling potatoes and onions for roasting and whatever greens looked the freshest. We would take these fine ingredients home and I would prepare a sumptuous candlelit meal for my dear hubby of 2+ years, who in turn, planned to cook up a delicious dessert of his choice to top things off. Sounds fairly romantical, does it not? I suppose it would have been, but fate had other ideas for our family that weekend.
It all started the Friday night before Valentine's day. Andy and I joined friends for a lovely Thai/Vietnamese dinner in Belmont. We headed home early in the evening to take out our sweet puppy Zu, stopping only to get tasty sundaes to go at J.P. Licks to eat at home. As per our usual routine, we opened the door and Zu whined and ran around behind her baby gate as we entered. Andy took her right out the back door to do her business. No sooner had I put down my sundae and taken off my jacket than I heard Zu coming back in through the kitchen and Andy shouting "Oh shnikes! Oh shnikes!" (he actually used the other s-word...) I'm not sure what hit me first- the sight of Zu foaming at the mouth, left eye closed shut, muzzle wet- or the stench. The brutal stench that hit you like a brick wall. In any case, Andy frantically explained that upon being released from the kitchen, Zu had lunged at an animal and had been "wrestling" with said beast in the backyard. Before Andy could do anything, the critter stood on it's back legs and revealed it's black and white self. Zu had been skunked right in the kisser. The explanation was hardly necessary- Zu looked and smelling HORRIBLE. At the sight of Zu foaming at the mouth, we both freaked out. Andy called Angell-Memorial Animal Hospital which I got into the tub (socks and all) with Zuzu and started to rinse the foam out of her mouth and the vile skunk toxin out of her eye. Feeling bad for our now wet, injured and stinky puppy, I foolishly let her out of the tub while Andy relayed the news from the Vet: Zu would be okay, she did not need to come in to be seen unless she was scratched or bitten (she was not). As for the smell, they recommended she immediately get scrubbed with a solution of baking soda, hydrogen peroxide and dish soap. Of course, as Andy shared this information, Zu found her way to each carpet in the house, throwing her entire body on the ground and grinding the skunk oil onto every available surface. Finally, sense grabbed a hold of us and I put Zu on her leash and relegated her to the dining room while Andy looked into supplies. We had no hydrogen peroxide. It was now close to 11pm. What to do? Well, here's what we did- Andy left to find the peroxide (a trip that ended up taking him to 3 pharmacies over the course of an hour) while I sat on the floor with Zu on my lap. We might as well invited the skunk in to personally spray her oils over our entire home. When Zu finally got a bath and all clothes that had been in direct contact with the skunk juice were in the wash, we decided to go upstairs to the spare room to sleep thinking we would be safe there. We were not. Apparently, stank- like heat- rises. I was up all night as the odor found it's way to my olfactory nerves over and over and over again, unrelenting even in sleep. The uneaten sundaes, now more soup than solid, sat where we had left them upon entering the house, a sad, sad waste of premium ice cream.
In the morning, we faced the damage and came to the quick conclusion that everything and anything in the house that could be washed would need to be. Slipcovers, carpets, wood floors, jackets, bodies- everything took it's turn getting scrubbed down. I put coffee beans and cinnamon in the oven, boiled vanilla extract and coffee grounds and left bowls of the ugly concoction around the house- anything to mask the smell. We left windows open as the 30 degree air drifted through the house. Andy and I did "checks" every once in a while, where one of us would stand outside in the freezing cold for a moment and then enter back into the condo to see if the wall of funk hit with as much force as it had previously. Over and over again we were hit by the funk wall.
There was no trip to the Farmer's Market.
After Zu got the special $50 "skunk wash" at the local groomer and we'd spent 2 days cleaning an invisible substance with the stank of a thousand suns, we realized it was Valentine's day. We had to pull it together. So, at 5pm, I ran out to the grocery store and picked up ingredients for artichoke dip and bruschetta and a few more ingredients for an ambitious Andy who wanted to go through with making a molten chocolate cake.
After a short while, I had whipped up the above plate of apps, arranged on the lovely ceramic platter given to us by my cousin Sasha for Christmas this year.
And Andy was hard at work separating egg yolks for his chocolate cake. This was his first time ever separating eggs and he did an awesome job!
He improvised by using the Silly Cow hot chocolate mix that we had picked up in Vermont to coat the muffin tins before he poured in the molten batter. I was impressed!
Unfortunately, I didn't get a picture of the finished product. While the molten volcanoes of chocolate didn't so much seem to want to stand on their own and immediately erupted upon hitting the plate (and on the floor in one case...) they were rich and delicious. Served with Ben and Jerry's vanilla ice cream and a couple of glasses of champagne, the stench started to lift before our nares as we indulged in the unctuous oozing chocolate. So, while we didn't end up with the celebration we had imagined, we did have a Valentine's that we will not soon forget. Happy Valentine's Day to all!
