Category Archives: cooking
“Food is not about impressing people. It’s about making them feel comfortable.”
Ina Garten, The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook
“Talk of joy: there may be things better than beef stew
and baked potatoes and home-made bread —
there may be.”
~ David Grayson
“The North thinks it know how to make corn bread, but this is a gross superstition. Perhaps no bread in the world is quite as good as Southern corn bread, and perhaps no bread in the world is quite as bad as the Northern imitation of it.”
(Samuel Langhorne Clemens) (1835-1910)
From an autobiographical sketch, 1898
What we’re really talking about
is a wonderful day set aside on the fourth Thursday
when no one diets.
why else would they call it Thanksgiving?
~Erma Bombeck, “No One Diets on Thanksgiving,” 26 November 1981
As I was leaving the library this afternoon, met up with a friend who had been working on one of the library computers (just one of the services at our local library). The electrical storm yesterday ‘knocked out’ her computer. My arms were full of cookbooks when I told her that our oven was out of commission because of the electrical storm. Why the cookbooks? I think that I just love to read them – even though I might not be cooking!
Hubby bakes bread!
I never had it so good . . .
and that’s the truth!
“Bread is the warmest, kindest of all words. Write it always with a capital letter, like your own name.”
from a café sign
We had such a hot hot HOT summer (into the fall, actually). Now, the weather is getting cooler, and I’m thinking of hot chocolate, stew, Hubby making his famous Peanut Brittle, perhaps making a fruitcake (didn’t make one last year but we really enjoyed the Apricot Fruitcake in previous years), soups . . . .
Ah – fall!
When my husband and I were first married, I had no experience in the kitchen. My mother (and aunts and grandmother) were marvelous cooks. And my mother did it all; I was rarely helping (except with the cleanup or table setting, etc).
However, I’m not enthusiastic about cooking when I have a dozen (or a hundred) other things/projects/commitments/obligations/duties. For when I’m in the kitchen, I want to be IN the kitchen and not rushing through the preparation in order to get to a meeting on time or finish a pressing project.
Since his retirement, Dear Husband has become quite the cook (a very good one, I might add). Often, when I come home from work (volunteer work – non-paying!), he will have prepared a truly Gourmet Meal – and how grateful I am for his skill and his care and concern in this regard. He is often telling everyone that he only cooks for his health – so he doesn’t starve to death. And, admittedly, if he didn’t cook, it might be just “Grab whatever you find to eat, Sweetheart; I’m busy.”
Our oldest son has become an excellent and creative cook (which initially surprised me for I didn’t see this trait when he was younger!). Our youngest bachelor son is also a good cook. Our daughter is a very good cook. But like me – none of them did much cooking until they left the nest.
How marvelous it is to enjoy cooking
and then enjoy eating
(that isn’t a word, I know)
with friends and family.
[Not that I’m averse to eating in restaurants, mind you . . . occasionally . . .]
If a pot is cooking, the friendship will stay warm. – Arab proverb
NEVER NEVER NEVER lay a book facedown when open!
DO NOT drop food or drink on the book you are reading!
Excerpt from Jim Harrison’s novel The Woman Lit by Fireflies:
Gwen told Stuart everything important except why she was on the train. She was voluble in a way she couldn’t remember, and in a manner she couldn’t have been with someone her own age. She told him about the small family ranch between Mule Junction and Guthrie to which she had retreated after a brief, unhappy marriage to a university mathematician who now owned a computer business in Albuquerque; about the Cambodian girl they had adopted and she had raised to the current age of sixteen; about her love of flying and the old Cessna 172 she owned that was temporarily grounded in need of a valve job; of the Simmental-Charolais stud bull that was the ranch’s bread and butter, of her arthritic father who lived seventy miles away in Silver City because he needed dialysis twice a week, but always came to dinner on Sundays. She told him that her daughter, Sun by name, was precocious and had been recruited by colleges for early admission but had chosen to spend another year at home and graduate with her own class. Sun’s hobbies were botany, livestock and Indian history.
“Maybe that’s because she’s Oriental and the Navajo and Apache are Athabascans who supposedly crossed the Bering Strait from Asia, then came on down here a thousand or so years ago,” Stuart suggested.
“She’s too perverse for that. She prefers the Anasazi, Hopi, the Isletas and Pueblo people who came up from Mexico.”
[from the section of the novel entitled SUNSET LIMITED]
Jim Harrison is one of my favorite writers.