When I lived at home I was subjected to the most interesting meals. You see, my dad was at one time a meat salesman. He would bring home items of meat (I think they could be classified as meat) and my mom would create a meal out of them. Continue reading
As a child, I spent my days with my Grandma Is. She took care of me while my mom worked. We would play cards. She read the “Daily Citizen” newspaper from beginning to end and painted her fingernails her favorite bright red color.
Summer days followed a familiar routine. The tv was never turned on (it was only re-runs anyway). I played with neighborhood kids or worked on my coloring books. The best part of the day was lunch…my favorite.
We’d go into the kitchen together, she’d set a small pot to boil on the stove. While it got hot, she sliced 4 pieces of summer sausage and laid out 3 sweet bread and butter pickles in a shallow bowl. Once the water was boiling, she would carefully and precisely measure exactly one cup of noodles. I would cajole her to make a heaping cup…so she would compromise by adding a pinch more noodles.
Once the noodles were done, she’d dump out the water and add butter and salt before adding them to my bowl. A glass of milk in a pastel metal drinking glass completed the meal. Continue reading
I dislike cooking. I find cooking, on average, a waste of time. First of all, you have to decide what to make, then you have to go to the store. Another thing I dislike to do and purchase the ingredients Then you spend hours making your delicacy, it takes ten minutes to eat it, and then, guess what, you get to clean the mess up. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy cooking when the house is clean and everything is done, and I am cooking for a get-together of family and/or friends. The key here, everything else needs to be done.
I have a confession to make. I don’t cook very often. My husband was raised in the restaurant business and started scraping gum off the bottom of tables with a putty knife when he was too little to remember. One thing led to another and he started food preparation when he was very young. Being around food and people who cooked well caught on with him.
I hate cooking. My kids have always been impossible to cook for. But before I get into that – maybe I should explain where I think my dislike of cooking came from.
In my mind, cooking equals love. The thinking goes this way…
If I love you, I take care of you.
If I take care of you, I want you to be healthy.
If I want you to be healthy, I want you to eat good food.
If I want you to eat good food, I have to cook.
If I cook, then you won’t get processed or fast food.
If you don’t get processed or fast food, you will be healthy.
If you are healthy, it means that I am doing a good job of taking care of you.
If I am taking care of you, then I love you. Continue reading
What is my favorite drink?
This sounds like an easy topic…not. My answer is, it depends.
I guess I would have to say the this would be an “Old Fashion”. I say this because it has come to be a kind of old friend so to speak. When I came of age, (I don’t like beer) I tried what my Mom always ordered. A Bacardi. Then I thought I should be drinking what my friend liked. Manhattans.
Well, after a couple of years of being totally wiped on only one or two of those (most likely one), I realized that I didn’t really care for them. Anyway, an Old Fashion was presented to me. It had a good taste of booze, I like them rather sweet, and that is where I am at the present time. Margaritas come in second. When you are out of state you don’t even think of asking for an Old Fashion because they are made with brandy, not a staple in other states.
You might think that I have a touch of bipolar with this one. You see, I definitely have a morning drink and an evening drink…and these two are at the opposite end of the beverage spectrum.
When someone asks you “What is your favorite drink?” – do you automatically think they are referring to an alcoholic drink? Well – I do, and that’s where I take pause. I’m not a big drinker. Typically people talk about coming home from work and having a drink or a beer… I come home from work and grab a glass of milk. Is that weird?
