Category Archives: kitchen stories

Living Smaller: Three Questions

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Last year Mother Nature Network ran a valuable series about living with less. I applied some of their advice and found it good. Recently, Mother Nature Network shared a simple post with three questions that can help downsize and minimize overdoing shopping with new purchases.

Question 1: Do I really need this?

To begin, define Need. For example, I’m thinking of getting myself a tablet. I’ve narrowed down how I will use it, what kinds of features I want, and the kinds of apps that I’ll use the most. But if I’m honest with myself, I don’t need this. It’s a luxury.

Question 2: If I’ve lived without this until now, can I continue to do so?

This would be a garden question. I saw a new idea for tomato supports. I could make this, but I don’t need it because I already have some very good tomato supports. I could make the new kind, sure, but my old ones are efficient, and I really don’t need to plant so many tomatoes that I’d need to buy or build more supports – unless, of course, I decided to can more tomato sauce and stewed tomatoes…. stop thinking, Daisy. Stop. I have enough space to grow what I need, and I have enough fabulous spiral stakes to handle those plants, so facing the reality that I already have what I need will stop me from spending money or wasting space on unnecessary new equipment.

Question 3: Is this item the most long-lasting (physically and stylistically) and greenest option available?

This question will be the big one as we search for a replacement for my minivan. It’s nearing the end of its valuable life, and we’re doing the pre-purchase research necessary to make the right choice in a replacement vehicle. Need it? Yes. Got along without it so far? No – the new acquisition will replace something we currently own. The greenest option – we still struggle with whether or not a hybrid is the right vehicle for us. A standard car that gets decent mileage might be better.

So on we go, boats against the current – or we would be, if the water weren’t frozen solid.

 

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The Chicken Soup that Wasn’t

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It’s outrageously cold outside. We are on our second day of school closings due to dangerous wind chills. I decided to make chicken soup.

Readers, you know me. Nothing goes exactly right at the O.K. Chorale.

Let’s start at the very beginning. A vegetarian librarian I know (everyone should know a vegetarian librarian) suggested a cookbook of vegetarian foods. Through my sources for used books, I found a well worn copy. You know it’s a good cookbook if the binding is worn and there are a few spills here and there. As I paged through it, the old paperback started to fall apart.

A Well-Worn copy of Fast Vegetarian Feasts

A Well-Worn copy of Fast Vegetarian Feasts

No problem. I set aside the pages I wanted, drew circles around recipes with potential, and crossed out anything I didn’t need. Project one: jalapeno cornbread. Result: delicious. Next time: don’t be shy about adding a second jalapeno pepper.

Project two: garlic soup. “Chuck” and I decided it looked delicious, but we didn’t think we’d serve just the simple garlic soup. We were more likely to use it as a base for something else. Chicken, I thought. Garlic soup with chicken and rice or noodles. Yum!

So I mixed up the broth and got it started in the slow cooker. Did you want the details? Okay, here’s the basic recipe with my Daisy changes.

6 cups water (I had beef broth handy, so I used that)

1 1/2 teaspoon salt

8 to 10 large cloves garlic, minced or put through a press (I couldn’t find our garlic press. #@*!)

1 teaspoon dried sage (I used fresh)

1 small bay leaf

1 teaspoon dried thyme (I used fresh)

 

Later, the recipe calls for bringing the soup to a boil and adding 2 beaten eggs. I might do that – or not. But chicken: I went downstairs to find a package of chicken breasts. It was gone. Chuck had cooked it last week.

Now what? I had a great garlic broth simmering, smelling wonderful, and no chicken. The wind chill was in the area of 40 below zero, so I did not feel disposed to going out to the nearby meat market. I dug through our own meat drawer and found – jackpot! a container of browned ground beef intended for tacos one of these nights. A-ha! Cheeseburger Soup with a garlic base!

I grated a few potatoes into the already-aromatic garlic broth. Late in the afternoon, I will rouse myself from my blanket and add ground beef, leftover corn, and anything else that occurs to me. Finally, when it’s time to serve, I’ll top each bowl with croutons and shredded cheese.

Nothing goes exactly right at the O.K. Chorale. But who needs perfection? All I need today is a heavy blanket and a warm and savory soup. Stay warm, friends. Relief is on the way.

And while you’re in your own cozy cocoon, what suggestions do you have for this garlic soup? Chicken? Ground beef? Egg drop? Anything else?

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The Fairies! They’re Back!

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Have you wondered what happened to the Fabled Fairies of Thanksgiving? They made an appearance several years ago, along with a Butterball turkey. Last year we went to Grandma’s for Thanksgiving. I hope the fairies travel over the river and through the woods to wherever you need them.

 Thanksgiving Dinner? No problem! I’ll call in the fairies. They’ll do everything.

The laundry fairy washes, dries, and presses the table linens, including the cloth napkins. If she’s feeling generous, the sheets and towels might get folded, too.
The turkey fairy will practice her specialty and make sure the bird is cooked and carved just in time for dinner. White meat and dark, it’ll all be moist and savory and leave just enough leftovers for sandwiches and a turkey noodle soup.
The baker fairy will take care of pies, pumpkin and otherwise. He’s an expert on flaky crust, selected spices, and the perfect portion of whipped cream. Don’t let that Simple Simon guy get in the way; the kitchen’s too small for anyone who begs to taste the wares.
The brownie — the cunning little house elf — will clean the home thoroughly, put the leaf in the big table, and get the extra chairs out of the basement.
I wouldn’t dream of neglecting the wine fairy: the sommelier so tiny she only recommends, never lifts, a bottle. Her taste is impeccable. Now if we could stop her before she over-imbibes and falls asleep on top of the piano…
Did I mention the decorator fairy? She’ll fix the fireplace mantel with something tasteful and seasonal before she makes sure the couch and rocker are properly arranged for the annual holiday gladiator contests known as NFL football.
The ambiance fairy keeps the wood fire crackling in the fireplace, the aromas wafting deliciously through the home, and the family discussions neutral and apolitical.
The kitchen fairies: really, there must be a whole crew of these talented sprites. One to do the shopping early and avoid the crowds, another to make sure the cranberries are perfect (and local, of course), and a magical maestro with the potato masher. Then we’ll need a feisty fairy, one with attitude — yes, you, Tinkerbell, you can make the coffees.

Mom, you can send the fairies over to my house now that we’re hosting the annual family Thanksgiving dinner. Let them know that I’ll have their room ready and their favorite cookies baked. If they arrive on Sunday there should be enough time to get everything done.

Wait. What do you mean…they’re…not….real?

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Tomatoes! Tomatoes! I still have tomatoes!

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A few days ago, I mentioned having oodles and oodles of not noodles, but tomatoes. I even mentioned a few suggestions. Here you go, folks, the results of Daisy’s Overabundance of Ripe Tomatoes!

Lotsa Salsa!

Lotsa Salsa!

I do mean a lot, too. It took two sessions in the hot water bath canner – my big one! – to process all of it.

In the category of “It’s only weird if it doesn’t work” (Thanks, Budweiser), we have Eating the Opponent, Philadelphia: Tomato Pie!

Tomato Pie!

Tomato Pie!

Well, it didn’t work. The game against the Eagles was a disaster in many ways. I might make the tomato pie again some day, though. It was good. I served it with diced Golden Delicious apples from a farm stand near La Petite’s abode in Lake Geneva.

The calendar may say November, but we’re still eating goodies that were grown locally or nearly so, including tomatoes from my own backyard. Click your heels three times, now, and say, “There’s nothing like homegrown tomatoes. There’s nothing like…” Or something like that.

 

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Everything old is new again

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It was field trip day at the virtual school! We actually get out of our cubicles, go someplace fun, and meet some of our students and families. This was a field trip to an old homestead in Plymouth, Wisconsin, called the Wade House.

We climbed many stairs to the third floor, a large common room surrounded by small bedrooms containing only the basics: bed, chair, dresser, and a few necessaries. Necessaries? Pitcher, bowl, and chamber pot, of course. The common room sported two small stoves for heating, one on each end, and a piano for entertainment and enjoyment.

We came down one flight of stairs and once again I noticed stoves installed in several rooms, including one set up like a nursery. I thought this was a sign of wealth. After all, these stoves had to be shipped to the small town, carried up stairs, connected to a chimney, and then fueled by coal or wood. The  tour guide said no, the stoves were actually quite typical of the time. The Wade family was middle class, maybe upper middle class.

I’m still skeptical. This requires more research.

I came in armed with information from my family tree. A Hattie Wade, born in Kansas City in 1844, married into my family. Her husband was my mother’s great grandfather. Got it? Good. Tour guides, again, did not know of any Hattie, and assured me that in while the family of 10 children had arrived in this part of Wisconsin in 1850, most of their relatives were still out East in Pennsylvania.

I took their information at face value, but didn’t take it as fact. At least one of the Wade daughters was Ellen, a name that turns up in several generations of my line. This piece also needs more research.

As we left the kitchen, with its indoor well and large cast iron stove, I spotted herbs drying. At that moment, I felt right at home.

So readers, can you identify the herbs?

So readers, can you identify the herbs?

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Gol’ Dang Varmints

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Pears. We have pears! The Dean of Students brings plums and pears to work, and we inhale them as though they were… never mind.

Pears! I bartered a handful of rhubarb for pears from Green Girl. These delicious fruits became a big pot of sauce with cranberries in it. Yum.

Pears! Pears! Chuck’s coworker sent home a third – yes, third – bushel of pears from his own overproductive pear tree.

I made a delicious pear sauce. It was the consistency of applesauce, but made with pears, and just a little cinnamon sugar. A trip through the food mill took out the hard pieces and the skins, and we had a simple and fresh fruity side dish.

But then – oh, come on, readers, you must know there’s a “but wait!” in this story. Pears in quantity attract fruit flies. Fruit flies fly around my kitchen and spread their fruity equivalent of urban sprawl to other rooms, too. We set a large bowl of the sweet treats on our deck. Not on the deck itself, of course not. We were well aware of tiny furry creatures that could look absolutely adorable until they steal the carrots or dip into the dill. The bowl of pears went on the almost- top shelf of my mini greenhouse shelves. They’d be safe there, right?

Wrong.

grrrrrr

grrrrrr

This is not the work of something small, furry, and adorable. This is the work of a furry bandit with opposable thumbs. First the compost, and now the pears? Get out of my yard, punk!

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Cobbler! Name your fruit.

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I had this in my archives, so I looked it up in the hopes that my overabundance of pears would work in the recipe. I diced the ripe pears, pulled a container of strawberries out of the freezer, and then baked. The original recipe called for a can of fruit, so why not fresh? Why not, indeed; pears and strawberries made a  perfect combination.

Quick and Easy Fruit Cobbler
1/2 stick butter
1 cup sugar
1 cup flour (or 1/2 cup all-purpose and 1/2 cup wheat flour)
1 1/2 tsps baking powder
1 cup milk
1 can canned fruit, undrained
1. Preheat oven to 350 F.
2. Melt butter in an 8×8 baking dish (can be done in the oven or microwave).
3. In a separate bowl, mix together sugar, flour, baking powder, and milk.
4. Pour batter over melted butter in baking dish.
5. Pour fruit over the batter.
6. Optional: For added crunch, crumble granola on top.
7. Bake for 45 minutes.

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Eating the Opponent – Detroit

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Amigo is a news junkie and a very creative young man. We’ve put him in charge of most of the research needed for our Eating the Opponent Packers Series. The other North Central Division teams make this a challenge because the Packers play them twice a year. I should have said AT LEAST twice a year, that is, because there’s always the possibility of a grudge match meeting in the wild card games.

Well, back to the question. Green Bay plays Detroit on Sunday. Amigo suggested we bounce off of the topic of Detroit’s bankruptcy and serve pork and beans, Depression style. Hm. Must think on this. It could work. Maybe.

I’ll let you know.

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Food Reality Shows vs. Kitchen Reality

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Actual (almost) conversation while watching a cooking show

Daisy: those are really random ingredients for the mystery box. It’s almost like real life. It’s almost like  — a pantry raid!

Chuck: That’s it! The real working mom’s Mystery Box is the refrigerator!

We discussed the funny options on a true to life reality show. The chief cook and bottle washer comes home from work, has an hour to make supper, and in the refrigerator he or she finds… what?

I’d look to the table, which is so covered with tomatoes that we have to clear space in order to set out the plates. Peek into the meat drawer, check out the bread rack – yes! BLTs!

But what about sides? There’s a half-empty jar of tart applesauce. And those carrots – no, we still have a rabbit to feed. Ah-ha! I pulled a banana bread out of the refrigerator last night to make room for some frozen corn. BLT, applesauce, and banana bread. And at the risk of overdoing the tasty fall harvest theme, rhubarb-apple crisp for dessert.

I skipped the applesauce. I’d already had some for lunch.

And then, just because I could, I made a batch of sourdough bread in the bread machine. Yum.

Eat your hearts out, Food Network. Don’t get too jealous, but my kitchen is where the real Master Chefs hang out, and we know our mystery boxes.

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