Category Archives: Cooking Utensils

Postcards and Memories

When I was a wee bairn, I was baptized and my Aunt J and Uncle D held me in their arms. They have been with me for many years, even though Aunt J died a few years ago, as did her sister, my mother.

In 2007 I called my Uncle from Scotland and asked if he wanted me to contact any of his family while we were there. He said his family left in the 1700’s to fight the French but if I walked into a pub and said his name anyone with that name would stand me a pint.

I never took him up on that one. Instead I looked like knew where I was going and after three days living there was stopped by every Japanese tourist asking directions. I just told them to avoid the post office and get postcards and stamps from the local sporting goods store then post them at the PO without standing in line.

People call him Saint D because he’s taken care of his family and so many others. My dear cousin visited him yesterday and he had out a postcard I sent years ago from Scotland. He read it, and remembered. His sons played golf at St. Andrews’ and we got to live around there for a few months.

What do I miss most from Scotland besides my friends? Bagpipers in the streets. I slept better there and the water was right from Loch Lomond and the coldest and best tasting I’ve ever had. Cheese, cheddar of course. Mussels. Salmon.

Oh, dear Uncle you come from a proud and noble heritage. I don’t know how much leeway Salmon has but I saw the sword of William Wallace, the marker at Melrose Abbey for Robert the Bruce and even toured Parliament.

Whilst not really free, the Scots are on their way, peacefully. May you spend your days with family, me included. I thank you for remembering me and the Scottish postcard. With love to family and friends. Dee

 

100 To Go

I’ve set my goal at 2,000 posts. It was initially 1,000 but I may have gotten confused as you actually liked me.

There are 100 to go so I want reader requests, come on, I love you guys and gals and now you get to take the reins on this old horse.

I hate to leave you as my husband has actually picked up a spoon or tongs and helped me out in the kitchen. That’s not a good thing. I’d rather he get water or Dr. Pepper and move out of my way.

Yes, above all I enjoy cooking for my family and guests. There are a few guests that are always welcome at my table, you know who you are.

100 to go. Let her rip! Dee

Blackbird, Bye Bye

Pack up all your cares and woes,

Here I go, singing low, bye bye blackbird

…… blackbird, bye bye.

Last post, they’re selling my posts. I never wanted or got a nickel from them, I will be removing them from WordPress.

I don’t know how to do this as I’m a writer and not a techie, that’s probably why they allow people to steal my words and sell them.

To my readers, I salute you and will be back on other than WordPress. Thank you for being with me and inspiring me these few years. The grandmother who died before I was a year old sang that song to me, to get me to go to sleep. It’s that time. Dee

 

WordPress Allows Photos

Alert the media!

DSCF0086 DSCF0088I say tomato, they say tomato,

Let’s call the whole thing off.

I tried to send you the photos again, even hit insert, no deal.

Enough, WP. Dee

Hello, tech support?

Utensils

You’ve wanted this for a while. WordPress is making it difficult to access photos and write around them and my computer crashed last night (hear that, Apple?) so we’ll see what happens.

I do have many kitchen utensils. I bought a cheap metal toolbox years ago to carry my knives (in knife shields) when I traveled. Now I have a better means for that, a knife case and a roll I used in cooking school you don’t want to know when.

In moving, one encounters challenges. We have, and still have a few boxes hanging around. What I did with this is say, honey I’m here for the next ten or twenty years. I make lemonade. I’m in it for the long haul and if I can take a box and make it do-able for my utensils when I travel, it sends a message.

Have husband, dog, knives, utensils, computers and phones, will travel. I’m ready to stay or go at will.

Below are photos of my decoupage project (drying, not done yet) and the two paintings Dad gave me that I framed. One is inspired by Maori art, the other a seascape. The former is scratched and has lettering on the museum-grade glass.

I have called and will bring it back in today. They tried to blame me for walking three blocks to get there before re-opening it to clean up fingerprints, writing and scratches. We’ll see what happens today. I love the painting and frame and everything and would like to work with them again if they make things right.

Cheers from Dee, they won’t let me do that below, friends. Dee

ps Cheese, Louise, they won’t even let me upload photos anymore! Letter to WordNotPress, you made it so I can’t even use my own art anymore! These were the punchline to my story, Dee

Dear Dad,

Everything has a meaning. You and Mom gave us each an ornament a year. I finally got all those back but have not even tapped through the last twenty years.

You’ll see items from Kids for Kids, Texas and western memorabilia, and cooking things for me. Also a handmade mitten for Zoe, to benefit an ecological cause. Yes, I have a jingle bell wreath (2) inside, one with a recycled glass star.

Is it a Texas star? I don’t know. I love you, Dad. Merry Christmas. Dee

2012 Wreath

2012 Wreath

Frito Pie

Finally just short of ten years of marriage, I learned about Frito Pie, a staple in my husband’s extended family.

They were shocked that the last time I had a Frito was when I was ten. I remember it and where I was living when I ate it.

This thinly veiled Thanksgiving secret has eluded me over the years. I’m popping in to see Nanny and Frito Pie is en route to the table or some such thing.

So, you take a handful of Fritos and place them in a bowl, top with chili and cheese and voila, Frito Pie! It’s quite tasty. Just as one would have corn bread with chili, the corn is there with lots of crunch.

The kids just love it and so do I. Now I have to get down to the nitty gritty of our chili cookoff. I tied my hands by limiting myself to Lady Bird Johnson’s Pedernales Chili because they didn’t have quite the Latino section in grocery stores in the 1950’s.

I’m headed to Penzeys and have decided to keep with powder, though I’ve no problem roasting fresh chiles or re-hydrating dried ones to get the flavor I want. I’ll get ancho and cascabel chiles in freshly powdered form. The recipe calls for “chili powder” and “ground beef.”

I’ve also ordered a meat grinder for my stand mixer to coarsely grind (Texas-style) some chuck steak and some New Jersey (boneless) short rib steak for a test this weekend.

I’d also like to meet my competitor and arrange for guests and sides. I think it’s fair for us to share garnishes like scallions, lime, cheddar cheese and sour cream. There may also be corn bread or polenta to sample as well. And some single gals, as that’s the purpose of this endeavor, to get him to know people here and hopefully find the right girl.

The contest isn’t like wrestling with a pre-determined outcome. He’s got the world on a string and I’m tied to a fifty year-old recipe. You do know that Texas chili never contains beans, right? I am the purist version and he can go all over the map; I think he’s doing bison.

We do need another judge. And we’re not using our community room because that’s $300 even though one of our judges is on staff here. So it’ll be here with a maximum of 20 people, and I’m short a few chairs but will look to neighbors for those.

Nervous, yes. I only made chili once, a turkey chili where I used fresh Thai bird chiles and they rendered the dish inedible no matter what I threw into it to tame it’s beastly heat. It’s for a good cause, camaraderie and future happiness. Cheers! Dee

p.s. I know who to get as the other judge! Now we need Bobby Flay for judging criteria.

Cooking Firsts

Yes, it was an EZ Bake Oven that cooked with a 120 watt light bulb. I made their pretzel mix and had goo all over my hands and had no clue I could fool their stupid mix and just add more flour! Now I make dough every week and compensate for humidity. I even have a magnetic hygrometer mounted on the frig (check online for cigar supplies, they’re about $12, it’s a Caliber III) and add water until it’s right. I got it to keep me from electrocuting myself when we lived in the Rockies and it was usually under 20% humidity.

Back in the day, we didn’t cook by our mother’s side. We had our own kiddie kitchen (in the basement) and EZ Bake Oven. I did make a chocolate cake in it that turned out well but probably only used it a few times.

I prefer today’s method where the parent actually teaches a child to cook at the child’s pace so that when he/she goes to college or sets off for a first job, they know how to feed themselves, frugally and without fast food.

That was what I was trying to volunteer for last week when I was dismissed for knowing the boss’ email and about their need for volunteers and was demanded to explain myself and why my cell phone area code is from out of state. I’m a cook, trying to install community gardens in schools in poor neighborhoods so these kids can have their own culinary firsts; first fruit or vegetable; growing things; and eating fresh and healthy foods. Mine is a nefarious quest, to be sure. The boss probably runs the local fast food joint!

A couple of years ago I was tasked to make a packaged blueberry muffin mix at my in-laws for Thanksgiving weekend. My young nephew volunteered to help. I taught him how to fold, telling him it was a batter and not a battering ram and to fold as not to crush the fresh blueberries. They weren’t fresh, it was a mix, but he got the point instantly. Here this summer, he made pizza dough. I love seeing his  cooking “firsts.”

For years my sister and I tried to surprise Mom with sweet rolls and breakfast in bed. She always knew what we were doing and came out to eat our creations, usually refrigerated orange-glazed and cinnamon rolls. We were allowed to turn on the oven but not to use a knife, luckily because back then it would have been an awful knife that was dull and could really have hurt us.

Let me tell you about my second first date. My first date I was sixteen and this boy, 18, was cute and very popular. He went out with me twice then took spring break and slept with a cheerleader he saw for the next two years. Let’s just say she probably knew what my parents were worried about when they made me be home by ten.

After I spent a year in college, the first week home he called and asked me out again. We went to a fish place and as I loved salmon I ordered a salmon steak. Skin and bones and I had no way to negotiate it delicately. So I decided to learn. Oh, we almost married several years later but I called it off. Luckily as now I have Prince Charming, nearly ten years since our wedding day….

But I digress. To make a salmon steak easy to eat, as the French would do, put a raw salmon steak squarely in front of you with the spine at the top. Using a sharp fish knife or boning knife, cut down around the bones all the way to the bottom on both insides.

Remove the frame and discard. Lay the piece of salmon skin side down on your board and using your boning knife parallel to the board take off the skin. Make sure there are no pin bones remaining. If so, take your needle nose pliers, yes the ones in your secret kitchen drawer not those in the garage, and take them out. Rinse the fish to make sure there are no bones or scales.

Dry it, place each piece so that they fit together in a circle (oval) and wrap the skinny pieces around. Secure with 2 toothpicks. Season, grill or bake. Of course, remove the toothpicks before serving.

I like to season first with olive oil, salt and pepper, and one of my favorite preparations is just slathering one side with whole grain mustard and baking it or cooking it on a closed grill just ’til done, about eight minutes for medium rare.

This is what I would do if the fillets in the fish case look old and the salmon steaks are fresh. And while there will never be a third first date with Anonymous, if the Prince and I go to dinner and I’m faced with a salmon steak, I know exactly where the bones are and how to eat it… delicately. Ask your butcher about knife sharpening. Get good knives – they’ll last a lifetime. As Jacques Pepin would say, Happy Cooking! Dee

Essential Utensils

I must have brought it to a pot luck and left it behind, because my can opener is missing.

Last night I made stuffed peppers with ground turkey, onion, garlic, rice and parmesan and tomato. I bought a can of whole tomatoes and couldn’t find my can opener.

First, I looked everywhere. I mean everywhere. I finally put the final utensils in drawers and then moved some things around, like baking stuff and graters together, all the instant read and candy thermometers together.

Then I got down to brass tacks. Found my old Swiss Army knife. Didn’t work. What did, in the end was poultry shears to cut back 1/3 of the top of the can. I was sweating by then. My needle-nosed pliers were next, to roll back the top like a can of anchovies.

It worked but in 1/20th the time, I could have an OXO Good Grips can opener and not break a sweat.

You know I’m not one for unnecessary kitchen equipment. I don’t have a huge espresso/cappuccino machine because we don’t drink coffee. Or a rice cooker taking up huge amounts of counter space, because we have a stove and pot and lid. Of course I don’t use mushroom or corn brushes or strawberry hullers. That’s what human hands are made to do, not cutesy Williams Sonoma or Sur La Table utensils.

A can opener is a good thing to have, even though I don’t open a lot of cans. Usually just good San Marzano tomatoes for sauces et al. Maybe cannellini beans to rinse for an Italian salad with dry salame, red onion, herbs and vinaigrette.

As I whacked away at this can, I thought of that day long ago in the woods in Mendocino at a cooking apprenticeship when my landlord said there was free wood in the barn. I hacked away with a dull axe until I realized I could cut my legs off and no-one would ever find me. Same as yesterday, I thought I would cut myself and my dog wouldn’t get her dinner and my husband would find me bleeding out on the kitchen floor.

Today, I’m buying a new can opener. No, not the electric kind that takes up precious counter space, a quality hand-crank model. Sounds like a trip up to BB&B.

The mixture was quite good, red peppers topped with it, plus a few breadcrumbs and additional parmigiano reggiano, it was moist and delicious. Happy cooking, Dee

Of “Relo Cubes” and Moving

Friday afternoon, without telling me, my husband got a U-Haul truck and cleared out our 5x5x5 “relo cube” from the ABF freight terminal near work. I wasn’t ready for this, 1.5 weeks into our brief sojourn into a teeny apartment with rented furniture to which I want to bring practically nothing until we find a permanent place to live. We don’t even know yet from work which city that may be, so are currently in limbo.

I was quite judicious in my selection of only one piece of furniture (a printer stand that doesn’t look like one) and 12 boxes. One for Jim, the PlayStation III, the rest for me. Mostly stuff to make the kitchen palatable. I’ve been dealing with the Cort Furniture “housewares package,” making Jim’s eggs with a cheap teflon plan and over-sized plastic spoon.

Today (it’s 4:00 a.m.) I will pack up most of Cort’s kitchen package above the frig to have room for my specialty utensils as I only have one drawer in the kitchen and right now it’s filled with useless things.

I’m taking only what I need from the boxes and we’ll return the rest to storage next door. Oldest commercial elevator in town. Wooden rails at each story, old wood floor and you must work the metal cables to pull yourself from floor to floor. Priceless! We got a larger unit than we thought so we can cherry-pick what we need, from the printer to my summer clothes. We have two piles on either side with an aisle down the middle (6×8 total) with eight all-weather tires up front. Though we were told not to change out our snow tires until the end of May as there’s “always a storm” in May.

Yesterday was St. Paddy’s Day but we spent it relo’ing and I unpacked all but two of the boxes. One is bathroom stuff (consolidating from three baths to one) so I used the printer stand drawers, one for Jim’s shaving kit and my makeup bag, and the other for Zoe’s brushes and shower hose. The open area is for toilet paper (handily holds 12 rolls) then I put an existing basket on top and decoratively rolled four new matching dog towels so it actually looks pretty.

Jim was convinced we didn’t need the printer stand but if it moves his shaving kit up two feet (he’s very tall) he’s all for it now.

Now I need an office. My 24″ monitor is in a box we took in the car, along with my trackball mouse. I’ll get a table that fits along the wall or in a corner window going out to the balcony. Add a new toothbrush stand, toilet brush, and paper towel holder and I’m ready to go do our taxes this coming week! I’ve already run Fed and State but need to clarify some deduction information before filing.

Two issues we had here with the furniture is that the place is too small for a dining area so we got three barstools and they were too high. They were replaced Friday, and we also had to switch out the queen bed for a king so that Princess Zoe would be happy. Yes, our dog has spent eight years on our bed, since Cousin Val took out her hips and I had to watch for her biting her stitches. Thanks to you, Val, Zoe will NOT sleep on her bed on the carpet, even with the travel pillow we bought her a year ago that she loves!

My aches and pains are lessening from lifting boxes, and I have my food processor, spices, electric tea kettle and essential utensils (pictured on this blog). And while we got ingredients for burgers yesterday, I was too beat to cook so we got tri-tip on root veggie mash from The Eatery for dinner. Aside from “Wobbly,” (family cow) it’s the tenderest beef I’ve ever eaten. Yum! It’s nice to have even a partial paycheck after ten weeks and a move across the checkerboard states! Cheers and have a great weekend! Dee