More Kitchen Adventures: I Have to Clean the Oven? Today? Seriously?

Nope, my good girl, Kerryn, came to my rescue! Since she voluntarily came to clean my oven for the stupid HUD Inspections, I made her a simple supper of Salad, Omaha Steak’s Pork Loin Cutlets (a gift from one of my neighbors), and Garlic Mashed Potatoes and Cauliflower which she had never tried. The Pork Cutlets were really, really good. Thanks, Richard!

 The mashed potatoes and cauliflower combination is a fairly new discovery for me and Kerryn liked it so just for her, here’s the recipe for six to eight servings:

Garlic Mashed Potatoes and Cauliflower

Cook until tender:

1 head of cauliflower broken into small florets

4 medium-sized unpeeled Yukon Gold potatoes cut into 1 inch cubes

I usually start this process with the potatoes in a pot that has a steamer insert and put the cauliflower in the steamer until the potatoes are beginning to get soft. Then I dump the cauliflower in with them and finish them together.

While that is cooking peel, smash and mince 3-4 good-sized cloves of garlic and saute it in 1 TBS of butter until it smells good and is tender. Do not brown. OR if you’re busy and rushing things, use 1 tsp garlic powder in the next step. More if you like garlic.

When the vegetables and garlic have cooked put them in a food processor with a bit of the cooking liquid and add:

2 (or more) TBSP butter

1/8 cup of whole milk to start.

½ tsp salt

A few cranks of the pepper grinder

Turn the food processor on and let it do its thing until the potato peels are still visible but the potatoes and cauliflower look like mashed potatoes are supposed to look in your world. I like mine a bit lumpy. (What can I say, my mother was not into doing whatever it took to make smooth mashed potatoes when I was growing up so in MY world mashed potatoes are a little lumpy with chewy little chunks of potatoes in them.)

Turn it out into a serving bowl and stir in 1 TBS of parsley. Fresh is a nice touch but I seldom have fresh on hand so I use the dried stuff. Plop about a TBS of butter in the middle and crank some pepper over the top. Good with beef or pork gravy on it, too.

If I was going to make this dairy free I would substitute a good margarine for the butter and use plain soy, oat or almond milk instead of Cow’s milk. Maybe coconut milk.  I’ve been reading good things about the health benefits of coconut oil.

Since I live alone I halve this recipe and I’m inclined to use instant potatoes. Just follow the recipe on the box for 2 servings and dump everything into the food processor with half the cauliflower. It keeps well in the refrigerator for a few days

That’s Kerryn.  She doesn’t look much like a kitchen drudge in that picture does she?  But let me tell ya, she can clean an oven and not make a mess of the floor.  I don’t know how she does it. 

Thanks for helping me out with that odious chore, Sweet Pea. You rock!  Love ya a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck!

Addendum:  It is 9:30am. The inspectors have come and gone.  I got the bathroom and kitchen mostly done, the windows washed, and my bed made.  I had the couch pulled out and the equipment and cleaning supplies to vacuum and steam clean the pet messes on the carpet (wouldn’t you know one of my brats puked on the carpet in two different spots yesterday) scattered around so it was obvious I was getting to them. 

They weren’t even going to look in the oven or refrigerator but I insisted they look at the oven since I stressed over it so much and Kerryn made a special effort to help me.  Jill said it was obvious that I kept up with the housekeeping so she just checked things off her list.  I guess that’s a compliment.  They did test the fire alarm and made sure all the other mechanicals were working–flushed the toilet, turned on the fans and all the lights. I pointed out that I cleaned the windows because if the windows are clean and the kitchen counters are cleared off, the dishes are put away, the kitchen floor is mopped and the carpets don’t have a bunch of crap littering them,  then the house looks clean to me.  The dust can be an inch thick but if those things are done, it looks clean.  Just don’t look too closely.

Honestly, I don’t know why they send that damn letter telling us that we have to do this long list of stuff to pass these things if they aren’t going to check to be sure they are done.  On the other hand, I still have nightmares about living at Shirley’s House of Recycled Virgins on Whitewater Avenue in Fort Atkinson when the kids were young.  What a PITA that stick-up-her-butt woman was when she did inspections.  I guess I won’t complain about the young ladies here and try to remember they aren’t Shirley…

Wikipedia: floor definition: the level base of a room. →

Read Full Post »

“Take care of all your memories. For you cannot relive them.” Bob Dylan

To live in hearts we leave behind, Is not to die.

- Thomas Campbell

I didn’t exactly make a New Year’s resolution to start writing in this blog again but I’ve been thinking about it a lot.  I really should; I have so much to say.  <hehehe> So here we are already three weeks into the New Year and a post is born.

My daughter was here last week and somehow we got onto the subject of how people who live here or their relatives dispose of their stuff when they leave to go into a assisted living, nursing home or the funeral parlor.  There are often this building’s version of a garage sale.  A notice is posted on the bulletin board that such and such an apartment is having a moving sale and the apartment is opened up for a couple of days for the browsers and bargain hunters.  Sometimes there is a notice that if you need something, come have a look see and it’s yours for the taking.

That’s how I got some bowls and plates my daughter was admiring (and that’s how this conversation got started).   That’s what I want to happen to my stuff when the time comes.  Not that I’m planning on going anywhere soon but when you get to my age and have the health problems I have, AND you live in a building where more than half the residents are Senior Citizens who are moving on to somewhere else with alarming frequency you think about these things.

So I told Kerryn that she and her brother should take what they want and give the rest of it away.  Of course that got us started on a walk down menory lane as we glanced around my apartment and she pointed out some things that had sentimental value to her.  That reminded me of the most important thing I have that belonged to my Grandmother.  My kids have heard the story about the nearly 100 year old bird of paradise milkweed pod I have carefully drug around with me since 1974 more than once but of course it doesn’t have as much significance for them as it does me because they didn’t really know my Gramma Della Hoyt Fate.  It makes me sad to think that after I go (aka die) that memento and the memories connected to it  will be lost.  She told me I should write the story down so it would survive me.  So here it is.

This is a picture of the milkweed pod my Gramma, Della Fate kept in her bedroom, hanging on her mirror.  It was picked on the property my Grandfather owned on the day he asked her to marry him so let’s do some math here.    Grandmother was 80 years old when she died in 1974 so that means she was born June 13, 1984.  She was 22 years old when she married my Grandfather and if I remember correctly,  they had a fairly long engagement–at least a year.  Probably two.  So this milkweed pod is at least 96 years old. It hangs on a picture of some Victorian Ladies in my bedroom.

That potholder is an example of some of the fancy crochet work my grandmother used to do.  I really regret not keeping one of the high heeled slippers she made in the ’60s and stiffened with some kind of starch so they would stand up. She made a lot of them and gave them away as gifts to the ladies in her Bible Study and Prayer group.  They were really cute but not exactly something this budding hippy was interested in.  She also made a lot of doilies and stuff.  For a long, long time time I had a purple and lavender flowered towel with crocheted lavender borders that she made for me as a young teen.  Those were my favorite colors at the time.  Eventually the towel wore out and the crocheting disintegrated.

But my favorite were her rag rugs.  In the summer she would sit out on what she called the North porch  (it was enclosed and essentially served as an additional room on the house for three seasons) and rip old dresses and remnants of fabric into long strips which she then sewed together on her old treadle machine (which I have) and rolled into huge balls.  (The north porch led to her front door and the South porch led to her back door but I always found that confusing because I think the North porch faced east and the South porch faced North.  <shrug>)  Then in the winter she used a giant crochet hook and turned them into rag rugs.  I used to help her with rolling those strips of fabric into balls.  My favorite memories of my Gramma take place on that porch.  I even had my own rocking chair there.

Here’s Barbra Streisand singing my favorite song about memories.  I love this song.  I’d like it played at my memorial service.

Memories, light the corners of my mind/ Misty watercolor memories/ of the way we were. Scattered pictures of the smiles we left behind/ smiles we give to one another/ for the way we were. Can it be that it was all so simple then/ or has time rewritten every line?

The Way We Were Lyrics  Barbara Streisand

Read Full Post »