“Daylight savings time is almost here. We can’t forget to move the clocks forward,” my husband commented the other day. “Oh, no. I have a hard time with losing an hour of sleep when we ‘spring ahead,’ ” I replied.
“Mom, I just had the best cookies ever! I ate a bunch at the dining center. You need to make them at home,” my 18-year-old son exclaimed, practically salivating.RELATED CONTENT
As I pondered a potential column topic, someone tossed an idea my way. How about writing something about frozen foods? I must admit, after our intensely cold winter, I am dreaming of hot, grilled foods cooked and eaten outdoors on a warm day. Thinking about frozen food made me shiver.RELATED CONTENT
“What’s that?” I asked as I breezed through the kitchen, noting a pot of simmering stew. My husband was head chef that evening and was trying a new recipe.
I flipped on a reality-type TV show one day. A camera crew captured footage of someone climbing over a mountain of boxes, clothing and trash to get around his home. The piles were so high that his head nearly touched the ceiling.RELATED CONTENT
“I can’t talk,” my husband said in a raspy voice that reminded me of the lead character in “The Godfather” movie. Our daughters and I looked at him. I could see he was able to breathe, and I knew what the issue was.
“Mom, you look like the little old lady rabbit in ‘Good Night, Moon’,” my 10-year-old daughter said with a laugh. I was sitting in my comfortable chair covered with a blanket while attempting to knit.
I have been leery of pressure cookers most of my life. Like many people of my generation, I grew up eating lots of soups and stews prepared in our family’s pressure cooker.
While at home on a holiday break, I had a little more time to invest in food preparation than I usually have, so I decided we would focus our cooking efforts on foods from around the world.
The other day I stumbled upon a piece of food-related literature my husband bought for me several years ago. It caught his eye on a newsstand.RELATED CONTENT
“I hadn’t heard of ‘hot dish’ until I moved here! We called it casserole,” one of the college students remarked.
Boil. Drain. Serve. Even after a long day, most of us can manage the cooking directions for pasta.
“If I don’t get a glass of water, will I survive until morning?” I asked myself sleepily. Despite being incredibly thirsty, I took my chances. Besides, I was too tired to crawl out of a warm bed at 2:30 a.m.RELATED CONTENT