6 posts tagged “in the kitchen”
There was but one egg left over after all the birthday caking (from a dozen, I don't want to think about it, thank you). And I wanted to make scones. But what self-respecting scone recipe takes more than one egg? This one sure doesn't! I didn't listen and went diving straight into the strawberries. I kneaded more than 12 times. I didn't set a timer but relied on my eyes instead. And there are scones in the kitchen now. Are they the best-ever? I don't know...but they're good enough for breakfast tomorrow. Which is what counts, right?
A friend of mine was mentioning to me that she didn't know that I was this into all the crafty stuff. To which I can only plead: I'm not. I don't have the spare time nor the energy right now to be all that productive. But I can dream, right? Which is why I spent the evening baking up scones and getting acquainted - first time out, thank you - with a rotary cutter. Which, I have to say, is kind of awesome. I have a major pile of 5.5" strips of fabric (pink at that!). Now I just have to brave the sewing machine - oh please oh please let her work...
It does seem to happen rather often that either my roommate or his girlfriend are in the kitchen cooking something up for the other.
Yesterday was Courtney's birthday so it was James' turn to take to the oven. Sadly, I was not there this time for the making of the cake - cake mix, I admit, but was there to watch James put together the icing.
I'm always vaguely fearful of James in the kitchen - he worked in a restaurant and so he'll just go to it with abandon and ice cakes and whip up tomato salads that are, as my dad would say, birdie num-nums.
So I trusted in James, and watched. He claimed it wasn't easy so once he was all done, I had a go with the leftovers. Because we've got to amuse ourselves somehow, right?
I'm getting sick. Bleurgh. It is thus highly fortunate that I got to go for congee with some friends - the absolute best sick-y food ever designed by man or beast - not half because you get to eat it with members of the doughnut family (distant cousins but still).
I want recipes.
I immediately latched on, determining that it was, after all, time for me to get some milk so that I might actually look forward to eating at home some time this week.
Returning home, I requested that Courtney give me the secrets of the muchly delicious pie. One of the things I love about their family (Courtney's sister Becky and I have also been known to associate, though that's currently all kinds of complicated), is that they are happy to bring you into their celebrations and traditions. Courtney was pretty much happy to humour me with her mother's most-delicious recipe. Even better, as she sat across the table, we traded stories, something that I've not got the chance to do with this admittedly intelligent girl, well, woman, for a number of months. I scribbled down the recipe as it was put together on a 3x5" - I want a recipe box so badly, and then the pie went into the oven.
It has been a big weekend for me. I feel Mary Poppins-ish, but ready for it, ready to leap and grab. I ran home in the darkness tonight, not a good runner, my breath coming heavier, my glasses bouncing, swerving 'round the post we like to bump then the corner, feeling strong, like me. Home to pie and a clean(ish) room, and the feeling that I am up in the air, flying by the seat of my pants, just about to go bass-ackwards over whatever's coming next. I know it's tempting fate, I know that it's the dumbest thing to even think, but I'm *ready*.
I'm at my dad's on the *secret* wireless. Yeah...
My dad is sort of an old hippy without actually ever really having been one (to my knowledge, but the dad tends not to lie about stuff). He listens to opera and has a beautiful and cozy home filled with all the things he loves without being overcrowded or cluttered. There are giant handcrafted chests for cd storage, a tiny cable-free t.v. and no internet or computer - the newest printer here leaves you capable of making paper stars from peeling edges.
He's in the kitchen making onion soup - there was a refusal to have pictures taken and I didn't force the issue though, and it's the suck because my dad and the stuff he does is definitely picture-worthy. He's making it from a cookbook called How to Cook Everything Vegetarian. If there's one time that I absolutely don't doubt that I am my father's daughter - in all the ways that means - it's watching him cook. As I'm writing this, he walked into the living room and requested that I google "cutting garlic on the equator" because we don't understand what that means. Actually not finding it in google - ideas?
The onions cook or 30 to 45 minutes so dad put up a timer - I think he decided for 40? This "art" of cooking baffles us a little - substitutions make me nervous, going off the map makes me confused. It was a revelation a few months ago that I could just switch the ingredients in something and still have it work or taste good. He's looking up the garlic issue in Kitchen Wisdom now, I love love love my dad's libraries - the giant Oxford on the table, the various reference books in handy reach.
Oh. As I was writing this, he broke down: "just the soup? Okay. And get one of my pot, the one from Ikea in Toronto," So pictures will be forthcoming as soon as I can grab some time with some *real* bandwidth.
I'm also becoming disappointed with his cookbook - is the garlic meant to stay in the soup? It doesn't even say to take out the bay leaf. Oh dear.
E.T.A. Pictures!:
I'm not normally a coffee drinker - I start most mornings with just cereal and milk - so there's something lovely about making a special Sunday ritual about it, having a quiet moment with the tv or a book or two before I have to get up and do my work for the day.
This week, this month, this year is going to be eaten up with applying for school, again. As much as I like to be in school I do not love the process of applications, and the stress of asking for recommendations - the stage in my applying - is high. If I do this right though, I send the requests off tomorrow and then all I have to do is wait. Easy peasy, right?
