Cooking Lessons

Violin girl and friend watched as Kaukab’s daughter prepared to demonstrate an efficient method for peeling a garlic clove.

“Do you know how to peel a garlic clove?”
“Sure! I just peel the skin with my fingers.” (Friend looking on with a passive smile.)

In Kaukab-mode, I pulled out my shiny Chef’s knife and with a swift, flat blade to the clove, smashed it just enough to perfectly loosen its skin. A proud moment.

“See? That’s how you peel a clove!”
“I didn’t know that.” *giggles*

Turning to the quiet friend, I asked confidently, “Have you ever done that?”

A soft “Yes” hung in the greasy kitchen air.

I think I heard Kaukab snickering.

So, it’s a new year…

What to make of it, thus far?

Looking about the house, I’d say…not much.

The fireplace mantel still holds semi-filled Christmas stockings. The live tree, still guzzling water, hangs on, while the front porch Christmas lights linger, hoping to come down soon, if they had their druthers.

Druthers aside, the new year has arrived and there’s not much Kaukab’s daughter can do about it. With a new year comes new chances. Chances to start fresh, unencumbered by past hopes.

The last conversation with Kaukab in 2010 covered potatoes and turkey; frosty weather reports; family shenanigans and more potatoes and turkey.

Here’s hoping that Kaukab’s new year rings in fewer root vegetables and poultry. For her daughter’s sake.

Tags: family, humor, New Years

If This Mother’s Table Could Talk…

It would say, “Don’t you think it’s about time you free me of the plastic pink princess-themed table covering that you laid upon my beautiful, bare wood over one month ago, and which clashes horribly with the round wooden tray holding late fall minature gourds of golden yellows and oranges (with a touch of lime green), not to mention the fall-inspired candle jars adding a certain holiday confusion?”

It would further note that from its vantage point, it has come to its attention that the front porch has managed to slide right through to the proper holiday decorum. Colorful lights and boughs abound.

“Step it up!” I’m beginning to lust over that pretty, holiday-red tablecloth, sitting over there, looking all festive and only too happy to oblige.”

 

Tags: Christmas decorations, holiday, humor, tablecloths

Where’s My Turkey?!

I realize Thanksgiving has come and gone, but I want my turkey! Allow me to explain: You see, for the past few years, we’ve traveled over the fields and through the woods (yes, for real) to sister-in-law’s house to eat turkey (this year, only turkey breast was served?), marvel at grandbabies, catch up on the year’s big (and small) announcements, and generally act be cordial and full of self-denial while engaging in the family’s ritual of small-talk. Something Kaukab never role-played with her own.

In order to prepare for no possibility of having leftover turkey sandwiches over the next several days, Kaukab’s daughter always made sure to purchase a Thanksgiving turkey to make later that week, or at least to have ready for Christmas dinner.

This year, no turkey. Kaukab’s daughter contracted a very, very bad cold. Held up for three weeks, with only one working ear at this time. And, while two working ears aren’t required for preparing a turkey (timers are cooking crutches), it helps to have a sense of balance when cooking upright and doing heavy lifting, as is required for handling Thanksgiving foodstuffs.

I managed to scout out a few at Aldi, but didn’t have the urge, as I had just prior to Thanksgiving. I decided I’d take the chance and wait until closer to Christmas. Or, until my second ear felt better. Lucky for me, the drugs have started to kick in. I can actually begin to feel my eardrum fighting to move.

When I do manage to find me a turkey, I’ll make sure to get the whole bird. There’s something un-Thanksgiving about cooking a breast-only turkey. The flavors are off.

Besides, have you ever seen a turkey waddling around without its appendages? It’s all commercial make-believe, people.

I hope your Thanksgiving was a lovely one.

P.S. If you’ve got any leftover turkey, please email me some. I’d be most thankful.

 

Tags: family, humor, Thanksgiving, turkey

They’ve done it, again

Time to break out the holiday tableware. With two weeks to Thanksgiving, I’m told by countless advertisers that the holidays have already arrived.

How can that be? By the looks of our neighborhood decorations, it’s still Halloween! I mean, I haven’t even looked for a turkey. Hadn’t considered it.

But, the advertisers won’t let up. They’ve created a parallel holiday universe, in which Thanksgiving and Christmas merge into one big blob of perfectly-browned turkeys and local newsfeeds reporting that Santa and his elves had arrived at the local mall. Worse, the long lines of willing participants–laughing and waving, as if  Thanksgiving had come and gone…that it was actually time to stand in long, undulating lines of Christmas-sweater-wearing grandmas holding tight to their crushed red-velvet-wearing progeny.

For that, alone, I refuse to go turkey shopping any time soon.

Can’t speak for Kaukab, though. Wouldn’t dare.

The Lost Month

Last we spoke, it was early October. Gourds and mums filled the markets. Discount stores began lining their flimsy, 1960s-era shelves with last year’s leftover candies and decades-old Thanksgiving and Christmas paper decorations. Think enormous turkey and Old Saint Nick.

Well, here we are. On the precipice of a new season. A new season for which I am not ready. How can I be? I’ve barely made it through October with my eyes open. In fact, I believe I’ve missed just about the entire month. And, not only in this blogosphere.

No.  Most everything in my October life was lost. The culprit, you wonder? Violin girl. More specifically…college applications. There’s good reason why they use the word “process.” It’s code for time.  As in time consuming. I must admit, I had been warned. Countless times. Countless years. I’m pretty sure I had heard the stories far too many times that I had come to believe they were nothing more than urban/rural legend concocted by highly-involved parents (mothers, in particular) entrusting their whole vicarious lives to the college gods–the elusive college application board.

I’m afraid that I, Kaukab’s daughter, have drunk the application Kool-Aid and fears there is no going back. Only thing to do is to press on to a  new month and hope most of it doesn’t pass me by.

I must say, though…two things Kaukab’s daughter did manage to yield from October:

1. A lovely anniversary dinner out at one of our favorite spots–salmon with herb and cucumber coulis, followed by a lovely cup of caramel-sea salt espresso and chocolate-covered macaroons at our new favorite cafe, just blocks from our home.

2. A rather large sack of Halloween candy (the good stuff, minus the candy corn) dropped off by driver boy, courtesy of neighbor-friends who live to lavish on him.

Not a bad month, afterall.

Tags: candy, college, Halloween, Holidays

Birthday Wishes

Kaukab’s daughter celebrated her birthday this weekend.

Friends broke out the “Happy Birthday” song–an unexpected surprise. A striking contrast to Saturday’s rendition, the family coaxed by the birthday “girl,” followed with clapping before anyone was allowed to slice into birthday girl’s luscious chocolate cake.

Red roses gifted by Hubby. Uncoaxed.

Bring on the next one.

Pumpkins for Kibbee

Kaukab phoned on Saturday to tell me the following:

1. It real cold out up here. Yep.

2. Lilly put out lotta decorations for Halloween. She have a smoke and someteeng make noise.

3. Me, I no give candy out since you were kids. It cost too much.

4. Mark (the neighbor) wanna pick me up some pumpkins. What for I need pumpkin?

5. Your Aunt Virgeenia no live at her house. David’s (her grown son) dogs push her out the kitchen door and she fall down. She livin’ wit her daughter, now.

6. I gotta nice couch downstairs, now. I pull out the bottom and put my feet up.

7. I not like the big turkey; they too dry. Well, that because they all old. I make a small one dis year. What for? No one come over an eat, anyway. (Insert guilt here.) But, I like to have some for leftover.

8. You have cold down dere?

9. I don’t watch Dr. Oz anymore. Too much bad tings on.

10. I tell Mark, bring me two pumpkin an I make him some kibbee. Eh, I put dem on the porch.

Just thought you’d like to know.

Cock Fight

City life can be interesting, for sure. I grew up in a city-burb where neighbors knew the business of other neighbors. Fights broke out periodically over such important matters as: whose job it was to mow the six-inch grass strip or what constituted “too loud” noise levels, be it barking dogs or stereos.

Since returning to city life six years ago–albeit, a different city–my appreciation for neighbors has been mixed. On the one hand, I have a nifty neighbor who likes to raise garden produce and bake bread, as well as occasionally engage me in political discourse–something I enjoy doing, having spent my teenage and early-adult years doing such with my father.

Then, there’s the other hand. The one that tests my belief system, which expects me to rise above small matters and treat those who most anger me with patience and respect. Which, on most days, works relatively well. But, then, I hear roosters crowing and any neighborly indulgences I may have allowed no longer seem permissible.

We built a tall, wood fence to shield ourselves from this neighbor’s successive and unpredictable follies, some of which run counter to our city’s ordinances. Mind you, this neighbor has a farm. On which these and other farm animals reside. Unfortunately, this neighbor likes to run the city (and its neighbors) on her terms, and my city house has been forced to live on a farm run by farm creatures with built-in voice alarms, which run long after everyone has awaken.

Today was the second return of such animals–after a visit from our city’s animal welfare guys. And today was also the second time I played like Kaukab. Only without the Arabic-tinged expressions.

I am not proud of my outburst. Made even worse when the kids tried to coax me back from the back door during the cock fight, my neighbor yelling that middle school-tinged, “Oh, get a life!”

Ego slighty bruised, I reluctantly retreated to my kitchen. My life is full enough without roosters.

 

Summer’s Last Tomatoes

Leave it to Kaukab’s daughter to wait until Summer’s end to finally make some.

Don’t act like you don’t know.

But, just in case…I’ll give you a hint.

Ready?

They’re green.

And fried.

Like these:

Fried Green Tomatoes!!!

 I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I last made these. Yes, since the previous summer.

Every time I make them, I tell myself that I will make batchfuls of them on a weekly basis until all the farmers in WV have picked every last tomato. And, yet, I have made precisely one batch this entire summer. One.

Even Kaukab can’t match the amount of disappointment I have brought upon myself. At least, I don’t think she can. Could she?

On a more positive note, the tomatoes turned out perfectly. And so easy to prepare.

Here’s the recipe:

Get yourself some nice large green, or barely ripe tomatoes like these:

These were fully green when I bought them, but being the procrastinator that I am, I had waited a couple of days, allowing them to get on with their “ripening” activities. No matter. I think they actually taste better when they’ve got a few days on them. Slice them up like this:

Then, get yourself three bowls into which you’ll place flour, beaten eggs (with a little sugar and milk), and your choice of crunchy coating material such as: crushed corn flakes, oyster crackers, or panko bread crumbs. Whatever you have. I like to use the panko bread crumbs, but I was out. So, I improvised with a combination of oyster crackers and corn flakes. Your bowl set up should look something like this:

Before you start dipping and coating, get your pan ready. Into your pan, heat up some oil (I use Canola) on medium-high heat. Then dip each tomato slice first in the flour, then the eggs, then the crumbs and place gently into the hot oil, making sure that your oil doesn’t get too hot; otherwise your tomatoes will burn too quickly before giving the other side enough time to brown and soften the tomato insides. It’s a delicate balance. You may want to turn the heat down to medium once you’ve cooked the first 3 or 4 tomato slices. They’ll take a minute or slightly more on each side.

Lightly salt them once you’ve removed from the pan and placed on a paper-towel lined plate. I made a kicky sauce to go along with them. Again, I used what I had around the kitchen. In a small bowl I mixed together some: mayo, a bit of ketchup, squeeze or two of lime, dash of cayenne and garlic salt and a few drops of worstchetshire.

With about 4 large green tomatoes, we had enough to last us into the next day’s lunch and dinner meals.

Too Good To Turn Down

 

It helps to have a couple of kids (that would be the boys) who aschew anything remotely connected to fried vegetables. Unless they’re french-fried and hanging from golden arches.

Can you imagine?