Today started as a bit of a mess. That happens when I sleep through my alarm, seeing as how I move just above glacial in the morning. Even after I got the kids to their schools with their haphazardly thrown-together lunches, I was still operating in more of a lopsided out-of-sorts version of myself. I knew what the menu said would happen for dinner tonight so I got out my crockpot and started throwing the ingredients into it. And then, just as I was about to put the lid on the whole thing, I sniffed.
It isn’t that I smelled anything wrong. But I didn’t smell anything right.
Last night was a good kitchen night for me. I made kale last night and it was delicious. The kind of delicious where when Mister Soandso said I could have the rest in the bowl, I barely contained my desire to lick the bowl and kiss his face. If someone not that many years ago would have told me I’d adore kale like it was something sinful and not healthy, well, I would have speed dialed the looney bin. So what changed? Surely not me, right?
Well, the mysteries of the thing changed.
When I posted last Friday about making ribs, I hadn’t planned on a follow-up post about food. After all, I spent Saturday out with the fabulous Mister Soandso and I promised some folks photos of the costumes we wore to a party. But as you’ve probably figured out, the key word to understanding me is “random” and so I’m rolling with an observation that came to me this morning.
I can’t think of a time in my life not attached to either preparing or consuming a meal or food item. Yep. You read that right. Even my babies came to me with stories of food and meals. (Oh, a different type of food preparation!) Mister Soandso and I still giggle over how many lattes he brought me in hospital rooms that sat on that wheeled tray-tables, cooling until too tepid to drink.
I suppose I should apologize for such a silly little attempt at a pun. What can I say, it’s late. (Yes, I know. I’m actually writing this Thursday night. Shocking, indeed.)
But back to ribs and Adam. Or, more to the point, Adam and ribs.
I don’t know Adam, well the famously Biblical one at least. But I do know ribs. I haven’t always known ribs but since marrying Mister Soandso I’ve learned a few things about all things ribby.
To me, Creme Brûlée is a grown-up dessert. Something that French and lovely on my tongue simply screams grown-up. At least to my way of hearing. Of course, there are times when the situation calls for warm chocolate chip cookies or a pint of ice cream, but since my introduction to brûlée, my palette changed.
I’ve been making fudge for over 30 Christmases. Somewhere along the line, the division between helper and doer blurred between my mom and I during the cookie and candy making fervor of Christmas, the net result being me making fudge for many a Christmas. For most of those 30+ years, I used my mom’s awesome recipe. But then my parents had a house fire and the recipe card disappeared before I could copy it down for myself. That was only the second year I didn’t make fudge since turning about ten or eleven years old. Then, a few months later, I received a copy of my Grandma’s fudge recipe and I’ve been back in the fudge making business since.
Peeking out my window at various times today has shown the day to be alternating parts of overcast, sunny, and cloudy. Stepping out the door proved that we were not having a heat wave either. I don’t know about the other folks in the the Northwest, but this feels too much like early spring rather than the first day of summer. In fact, the temperatures have me thinking about cold weather foods like steaming bowls of chili or plates of lasagna. Sigh. Looks like the barbecue will need to wait a few more days.
But since the weather is not lending itself to grilling steaks and corn on the barbie, I am in the mood for some good ole recipe diving. You know, that process of reading lots of recipes on a given “food” and then making up my own little version. Which almost always is quite awesome and rarely reproducible. I think the best part is just how many ways there are of making something delicious to serve to my family. Continue reading