Before this recipe, I had never tried fennel before. And why would I? It’s always been described as having a liquorice flavor, and frankly, that sounds like something the devil made to me. But when I was creating new oyster recipes for the magazine and I came across the theory that seafood could be smothered in a fennel butter, I decided to give it a try.
When we bought our house about 15 months ago, we got it for a really good price. In the D.C./Baltimore/Annapolis suburbs, it’s really difficult to find an affordable house, but we got lucky — kind of. In return for that really good price, we got a house that really needed some upgrades. Considering this was our first home, we were OK with that (or so I thought. I now hate when my husband asks, “Do you want to go to Lowes with me?”)
But there was one part of the house I particularly despised: The kitchen floor.
We watched our friend’s two dogs this weekend. They’re sweet little things, Leah and Skyler, who want nothing more than a few scratches and a comfy place to lay down. Oh, and to chase Crouton. They wanted that, too.
As you can imagine, Crouton was not pleased by this turn of events. We’ve traumatized her a lot lately, as last weekend we moved everything out of the kitchen and ripped up the floor to lay tiles. I think she was sure we were moving her again — we have a habit of doing that, as this house is her fourth place of residence in her three short years of life — so she was probably relieved when everything returned to normal.
And then we let the dogs in the house.
Luckily, there was no blood when the dogs cornered Crouton (or did Crouton corner the dogs? Honestly, I think she hand the upper hand in this situation); however, I did received the following text message from David on Saturday night when I was in Annapolis: “Crouton just reduced Leah to noises I have never heard a dog make before.” I was slightly worried, but we managed to get the dogs back to our friends in one piece.
After all, what dog would really want to mess with this linebacker?