A red trike, the pickle report, a lot of cooking, and not much else
Allow me a moment of nostalgiaand excuse the blurry picture above—those kids were really moving. That’s Jacobon the trike and Morgan behind him, trying hard to unseat him. That trike wasthe cause of more battles when the grands were little! And it has a history ofits own—it was some eighty years old when it was given to me by family friendswhose children and grandchildren had enjoyed it. Repainted at some time byloving hands, it had solid rubber tires, and the front one had a huge hole init. I can still hear Maddie, looking down one day, and exclaiming, “There’s ahole in my tire. When the playroom at my house was transformed to a TV room(what happens when grands outgrow hobby horses and trikes), the trike went homewith Colin. I hope he’s still keeping it safe for the next generation.
Since someone asked about mykitchen experiment, here’s the report on the pickles infused with Hidden ValleyRanch Dip: pretty good. I let them sit for twenty-four hours in the fridge, asrecommended, and served them with a bowl of plain Cheezits. Verdict wasfavorable, and we decided that the dip infusion softens the pickle flavor abit. I used a 24 oz. jar of Claussen kosher spears. You may remember that Ialso tried the recipe where you coat Cheezits with a seasoned olive oil mixtureand bake them---and I burned them to a fare-thee-well (and wasted a whole boxof Cheezits).
Christian wants me to try itagain at a much lower temperature than recommended. His theory is that mytoaster oven, being smaller than a regular oven, burns much hotter—and I havenoticed that before. The other night he brought out a chicken-and-wild ricecasserole (their oven is broken) and said the recommended temperature was 350but he wanted to do it at 300. I admit it was nicely heated through—and delicious.Christian is one of those cooks who needs a recipe to start with but then oftenbranches out on his own, adding and subtracting ingredients.
It's been a cooking week. Ifixed Norwegian hamburgers Sunday night, having forgotten that they are a bitof work although well worth it. Last night I did a hamburger Stroganoff—a lotless work and still very good. Yesterday, Melinda, who worked with me at TCUPress for years, came for lunch so we could catch up on families, publishingnews—and, of course, politics. Melinda is, if possible, even more fierce abouttrump and the Republicans these days than I am. But cooking both lunch anddinner for others takes a chunk of time. I made salmon patties and a salad forMelinda and asked if she preferred Thousand Island or buttermilk dressing. Atfirst, she chose Thousand Island because she hadn’t had it in ages. I proudlyboasted that both were house-made, to which she promptly said, “Oh! Maybe I’lljust have lemon.” Seems she’s leery of mayonnaise, but my cooking ego wasdeflated.
Much as I like to cook, I amhappy that we have leftovers today and Christian will be at a meeting duringdinner. I’ll have Norwegian hamburgers and mashed potatoes for lunch,Stroganoff for supper, and somewhere I’ll work in something green. My mombelieved you must have something green every day which led me once to sitacross the lunch table from the man then in my life and exclaim in horror: “Youdon’t have anything green on your plate.” He had chicken-fried steak, mashedpotatoes, and cream gravy. He rolled his eyes and said, “Once a mother, alwaysa mother.” My current green favorite, besides salad, is the fresh frozen greenbeans I get at Central Market. Give them three or four minutes in boilingwater, add butter and salt, and feast like they just came off the vine. Don’tget the microwaveable kind. Not as good.
Sweet dreams, everyone!
