What's Cooking?

What’s cooking at Woodsong? Not much these days. With just Gerald and me living here, I have to be careful to not cook too much. Both of us have a slightly restricted diet, and that cuts out some foods. I cook our noon meal; and if I am at home I fix us a light supper of some sort. Sometimes it’s left overs. Oftentimes soup and a sandwich in the winter. Sometimes bacon and tomato sandwiches when the garden is producing tomatoes. Occasionally hamburgers with fries baked in the oven. Barbecues made from left-over roast or sloppy Joes once in awhile. Right now we are eating sliced tomatoes for lunch and supper.

If I am at Katherine’s at supper time, Gerald finds something easy to fix from the little freezer in the garage. Before I go to bed, I make the coffee for the next morning and lay out dishes on the table; and Gerald, who gets up early, makes his own breakfast—sometimes an egg in the microwave or sometimes oatmeal or even cold cereal.

I don’t particularly like to cook anymore, and I was never what I consider a good cook, but I have always liked to feed people. I like having people sitting around the table. I do not like cleaning up after a meal, but it is a necessary task. And when guests are here, I get help.

When I heard our granddaughter Erin was coming last weekend, I ran by Small’s, our local grocery, on Thursday afternoon because like lots of other people, that is where I like to buy meat. I restocked for me and Gerald, and I bought lunch meat and sliced cheddar cheese just in case Erin might need a snack some late night. (She didn’t.) I knew from experience that her schedule would be crowded with catching up with friends and the other side of her family, and it was. (I also have caught on that the kids and grandkids are very thoughtful about not wanting me to have to cook for them.) In fact, on Friday, Mary Ellen brought over a meat loaf and a dish of au gratin potatoes, which turned out to feed us for three meals since Erin ate lunch with her Gma Shirley before her hair appointment and met up with her buddy Candice for supper. I put some of the meat I’d bought into the freezer.

Just as I was getting up Saturday morning, Mary Ellen and Brianna showed up to take Erin down to Creal Springs for some sort of junkque festival going on there with people selling crafts. (I did not know it was at a barbeque place.) I knew Erin planned to go to the Johnston City Homecoming game, and I browned the large roast I’d bought at Small’s, surrounded it with veggies, and put it in the oven. I hoped someone might be there to help us eat it at lunch time. Brianna had come in carrying a fresh loaf of banana bread, and I had already finally remembered to take from the big freezer a pumpkin pie, one of several that Mary Ellen and Bri had made for Thanksgiving last year. It was left over, and I stuck it in its pie container in the freezer thinking I’d get it out sometime when Gerry dropped in. However, as the year went on, it was covered up and I forgot to get it out.

So when the craft shoppers came in laughing and showing off Erin’s pumpkin people, there was desert on the buffet along with the roast and veggies and sliced tomatoes, As it turned out, they had eaten at the barbecue place (not knowing about the roast), but they joined me and Gerald and ate dessert. This was a hit since they could send a photo by phone of Erin eating pumpkin pie to torment Gerry.

It had been so cold that morning at the junkque affair that Erin had decided not to go to the football game as I guess most of her reunion friends also decided. So we were all able to sit talking and giggling at the table as long as we wanted. Our centerpiece was Erin’s pumpkin people—Papa, Mama, and Baby Pumpkin heads made out of small blocks of wood painted orange and with faces created by ancient bolts and odds and ends from someone’s old toolbox or rusty tin coffee can perhaps found in their grandfather’s garage. Each face was unique, and they were cute little creatures. Erin is excited collecting seasonal decorations for their apartment when her new husband comes back from South Korea next year. We conjectured how much we could make if we got crafty with stuff from Gerald’s shop, and decided such little block heads could also be made into Santas or Valentine faces. Erin assured Gerald he could saw her out 90 blocks any time for her to figure out a project for her language arts students to create.

Before long Brian was able to drop in from harvesting and eat with us. Finally Trent came by to see his cousin Erin, and he made a hit with his red Mario hat. He had already eaten at whatever his morning activity had been, and eventually people had to leave and Erin had to get ready for her 10th class reunion dinner. Most of the roast was left over to be put in the fridge for this week--where the remains of Mary Ellen’s meat loaf already was. At least the pie was gone, and I was glad there was still some banana bread left because it was so good.

Erin had gone shopping with Gma Shirley on Thursday, and the Johnson family was gathering in for Sunday dinner in Erin’s honor. She was excited about getting to see her cousin Jeremy’s new baby boy. When she returned to pack for her flight back to Texas from Saint Louis, I enjoyed hearing about little Kinsley, who had brought a frog into Gma Shirley’s house. Since Shirley is one of the best cooks in our community, I had to appreciate all the largesse that Erin pulled out for us of a large plastic bag—many large slices of tender succulent ham, meat loaf, the die-for dumplings Shirley makes, corn, green beans, and cheesy broccoli. I do not know how many Shirley fed at her house that day, but she fed us most of this week! I took Katherine supper that night, and one day a piece of left over ham on our lunch table was wrapped in bread for Gerald to carry a sandwich to the field for Brian even though Mary Ellen might have already fed him. Between the left over roast and Shirley’s food, I did little cooking last week.

On Saturday, I did fix us a couple of good pork chops from Small’s with vegetables and tomatoes before I went to Katherine’s. When I returned home, Gerald told me he’d just heard that Gerry and Vickie would be coming through Sunday night. Gerry had worked a hitting clinic at Indianapolis, and then in his typical style had picked up some dogs to take to Texas via Shelbyville, Tennessee, where he had to be at 9:00 this morning.

Wanting me not have to cook on Sunday, Gerald suggested we try out that Creal Springs barbecue place the kids had said was so good. However, when he called Mary Ellen to see if they could go with us, she explained they were not open on Sunday. So we ended up going to Harrisburg to our favorite Kentucky Fried Chicken buffet and ate a wonderful meal there with its never-ending line of hungry people. Then we took a leisurely drive home down Old 13, which I had not been on for a couple of years. It sounded as if Gerry and Vickie might be arriving around supper time, and I figured I’d whip up a cake mix and make a light supper.

However, before I started, Gerry texted his dad that I was not to fix supper. They were going to take us to town for dinner. That is what we did after we enjoyed watching two little half brother puppies frolic in the front yard as they were fed and watered. We had a good visit and went to bed early since Gerry was to meet a friend at 5:15 in Marion this morning. He was taking the friend’s dog back to Texas to train. Gerry and Vickie were so quiet leaving the house this morning that even Gerald did not wake up.

I did cook us a bite of lunch today, and I guess I better do something for our supper—if I have not forgotten how.

Why Does Everything Come At Once?

At the Trail of Tears Association board meeting tonight in Carbondale, Cheryl Jett arrived breathlessly with her supper in hand from a drive-through window. Our meeting after her drive down from Collinsville was just one of the many places she had to go today. This was also her first deadline for materials for her book about the city of Alton coming out sometime in 2009. She had prepared and printed out for us the agenda, treasurer’s report, and complicated minutes of the last very long meeting. She asked, “Why does everything come in the same week??!!”

Boy, did I empathize. My own agenda for today started out quite reasonable as I planned it yesterday. I’d have all morning to do laundry and get our lunch and fix a plate for Gerald to microwave for his supper. Knowing I was on my way to Carbondale anyway, it would be easy for me to be available to take Samuel to catch his bus to church camp so Katherine could keep her doctor’s appointment.

I could also return an unneeded item at the Carbondale Mall, recycle all the stuff in my garage at the drive-through recycling center, drop some letters in the Carbondale mail slot, and still arrive without pressure for the 6 p.m. board meeting. I looked forward to a busy but nor harried day. Since we have ridiculous amounts of zucchini and acorn squash accumulating in our kitchen, I also had thoughts maybe I could take a box to the soup kitchen since we no doubt will have another box full soon for me to think about freezing.

Last evening, however, Gerald told me that our wonderful neighbors had harvested a field of sweet corn in Galatia in yesterday’s hot steamy weather. The corn was picked and waiting to be shared with us. How many dozen did we want? Gerald ran over and brought back half-a-tub full of scrumptious perfect ears of corn. What more could anyone ask? Someone else raised it and picked it and gave it to us free!!

Suddenly my morning included getting down the big pans from the top of the pantry, washing corn and brushing off silk by the sink full, boiling water for blanching to stop the deterioration and loss of vitamins and minerals, fixing ice water to cool the corn after the blanching, bagging it and putting it in the freezer. As I read the morning’s paper at breakfast, I had laughed through Dixie Terry’s account of all the zucchini in her kitchen (when they had not raised a one), and decided I would get rid of one of ours by following her recipe for zucchini pie. Sort of.

I rarely follow a recipe exactly. Living in the country, if I don’t have an ingredient on hand, I make do with what is in my pantry. Even before gas became so high, I have never considered going to town just to get the items I don’t have. I did not have an onion as I’d thrown out the last one that rotted the other day, so I used onion flakes from the large container I’d bought recently. Not having crescent rolls to line the pie pan, I used a couple frozen pie shells. Usually I have a package of shredded cheese in the freezer, but I couldn’t find any, so I melted chunks of cheese food. I still had some chicken from a mesquite-flavored chicken I’d picked up yesterday, and I made the pie into a main dish. Her recipe was for one pie, but somehow I got two out of it. It baked while I was frantically trying to cool corn and carry it to the freezer in the garage.

The kitchen began to smell very nice, and Dixie’s recipe was delicious served with fresh sliced tomatoes—one from Gerald’s garden and one from the neighbor’s. I got the lunch dishes into the dish washer, and most of the laundry put away but not all. The big pans used for the corn will be washed easily in the morning. Sam was delivered to the church on time; and since I had fortunately packed all the recyclables in the trunk yesterday afternoon, I was able to accomplish that task before returning the mall item, finding a couple summer clothing items 75% off at Macy’s, and even doing a little Christmas shopping at the sale there.

Since our board meeting did not last as late as it sometimes does, I was stopped at Taco Bell and had a bite of supper and took advantage of Kroger’s senior citizen day on the way home. Most of those groceries are carried in; and tomorrow, I will put them away. I will think happily of all that tasty corn in the freezer to feed the grandkids when they come to see us next winter, and we will have left-over zucchini pie for lunch. Oh yes, I have been wanting to talk to daughter Jeannie and haven’t had time to phone her even if she were home to get the call, which she rarely is. I even accomplished that on the second try with a hands-free phone coming home from Carbondale. Everything comes at once some days, but sometimes that is a good thing to push us to more productive. Tomorrow I will sleep late and then do all the left-over tasks from today.

Garden Vegetables, Glycemic Index, and Shaking on Salt

Gerald was explaining to me this morning what glycemic index is all about. Interestingly, the desirability of some food items on the index conflicts with previous information given to us by dietitians in the past. GRRR.

For someone like me, who does not like change, trying to absorb the new information is as aggravating as trying to remember what in the world our bank calls itself now. After much effort a couple of years ago, Gerald shifted to skim milk at the dietitian’s request. Now this new information says that whole milk will cause fewer changes in blood sugar or something like that. GRRRR.

The only good thing is that fresh garden vegetables are still highly recommended—and thanks to our neighbor Scott’s garden and Gerald’s, we are enjoying lots of those right now. I had been trying to buy frozen veggies as opposed to canned since the canned has salt added. Fresh, of course, are even better. (I still would like to add salt while cooking them, but people at our table will just have to use the shaker and do that themselves.) Since the younger grandkids, who have just left, seldom touch the veggies anyhow—except for Scott’s sweet corn—that has not been a problem.

We have had three messes of okra to fix in the microwave. (Yes, of course, we like fried okra better--especially the grandkids.) I fixed a huge pot of green beans that Scott and Sonja sent over—and Gerald broke them for us. (No, I did not add bacon for seasoning. They were still delicious.) We have had our first zucchini casserole. (Yes, I would love to make zucchini bread, but until we have guests to eat it, I won’t.) We have had tiny fresh tomatoes for two meals now. (We did not have to worry about salmonella.)

One of our most interesting new vegetables is a squash that Gerald accidentally bought that must have been mixed in with the zucchini plants he purchased. I guess it is an orange acorn squash—which I did not excited as I thought they were all dark green. . I have just halved them, scooped out the insides, and placed them upside down on a plate and put them in the microwave. I even eat the skins. (Yes, I am sure they would taste even better with salt, butter, and perhaps brown sugar. But they are good plain, and certainly simple to fix the healthy way.)

Gerald moved his garden this summer in hopes of getting rid of a wilt disease we had, but he thinks it has moved with him. The Japanese beetles are visiting our trees on the lawn, but I haven’t heard yet if they are bothering the garden. We had been getting generous rain, but right now we are somewhat dry. Nevertheless, we are blessed with great vegetables that make our diet in line with a healthy glycemic index. (Yes, I would like to never have to think about glycemic index on top of worrying about calories, vein-clogging fats, salt, Vitamin K dangers, and whatever the dietitians discover next to dazzle us with.)

Meals Plus Snacks Are Necessary

“Grandma, can we make corn dogs?’ (Never mind, that we just ate supper a little after six—less than three hours ago.)

Actually, I was glad that while rummaging in the freezer for ice cream that they found the corn dogs that I had bought for this week—and then forgotten about in all the excitement and busyness of the week. I suspect a corn dog is as good a snack as any. So I gave permission for them to fix the dogs in the microwave—but not the oven which they would have preferred for some reason. It is just too hot to use the oven unnecessarily.

As an experiment, I had put a new jar of peanut butter and box of crackers in the den, where I keep grandkids’ treats in the fridge there. So far the peanut butter has been untouched. None of our kids have a weight problem, and I thought the protein better for them than sweet treats. They are definitely not couch potatoes.

With the heat like it is, they have pretty much stayed inside under the AC during the afternoons. This makes me appreciate a big house. I can get away from the noise--most of the time. We have too many grandkids to downsize yet.

What kids like and do not like to eat always amazes me, and, of course, it varies from kid to kid. The three here this week won’t touch a green salad. Yet our church kids adore salads—maybe because their Gma Jo makes some of the tastiest salads in the world and they and their friends found salads habit forming.

I can remember never liking pickles until some cousins were at our house one summer and encouraged me and my brother to start eating pickles off the table before supper was served. We ate the whole bowl of pickles, and I learned they were acceptable food for kids.

When our Erin was little, she liked Neopolitan ice cream and called it "sandwich ice cream." Consequently, the other cousins followed her lead and liked "sandwich ice cream." But this group doesn't even remember that, and they turned up their noses at Neopolitan the last time I bought it.

Meals definitely change while the grandkids are here. However, I did fix a pot roast with all the veggies yesterday, and we ate that again today also for our main meal tonight. Gerald was having lunch again with Gerry today. For the kids, I fixed macaroni and cheese to go with ham and some left-over vegetables (which no one ate) when we got home from VBS. Although I knew our kids always liked macaroni and cheese, I thought their enthusiastic reaction was a little strong. Come to find out, some TV show they watched yesterday had featured macaroni and cheese and threw a craving on them. I was glad I fixed two boxes, so they were free to eat all they wanted.

Soybeans Are Planted! Spring Activities in Full Swing!

Brian planted soybeans on Monday. We had T-bones at our house that night to celebrate. I made Brian a cake, and I took the remains to our daughter’s house today to get it away from here. Granddaughter Geri Ann and her cousin Lex were graduated from 8th grade last night at Johnston City, and families of both kids were there to cheer for them. In fact the high school gym was packed with students’ admiring loved ones. Baby boy and baby girl gifts are laid out on the dining room table to be wrapped for a shower and for a welcoming visit for new babies. Spring is in full swing, and now that the rains have stopped, the weather and the scenery are delightful.

The 8th grade graduates at Johnston City were all dressed in jeans or jeans skirts with matching class T shirts. I think that was the class members’ names on back. What a great idea! Nobody had to wreck the family budget nor waste time shopping to buy new suits or dresses. The excitement of high school graduation with the robes and mortarboards will not be diluted by having worn them at the end of grade school. There were lots of awards and recognitions for these youngsters—proof that they had worked hard and achieved much.

Not only was Brian able to plant soybeans, people here were finally able to start working on their gardens, flower beds, and lawns this week. I dug up some day lilies that had almost been destroyed by grass mixing in with them. They had been mulched, but I did not know to lay down plastic beneath the mulch. Consequently, some clumps had grass come up and mix with the lily.

When the plants were young, I wasn’t able to distinguish between the lily shoots and the grass stems. By the time both plants developed, I was not strong enough to separate the grass and pull it up. This had gone on for a couple of years now, so some clumps of day lilies were in bad shape. Finally this week I dug up the invaded clumps and separated the grass and replanted the lilies. I am watering them and hoping they grow quickly to make my line of lilies uniform.

The same neighbors who gave us the day lilies also brought us iris to plant that they had dug up from a family farm up north. That flower bed is truly beautiful right now with the large purple blooms blowing in the breeze. Gerald and I planted three new rose bushes last week, and the three planted last spring are perfuming the air already.

It is a good time to work outside and get dirt under the fingernails. It is not too cold nor yet too hot. It is also refreshing to bring out the spring clothing and start putting away the heavier clothes. Spring events make us want to dress up a bit. Who cares if the bleach only partly cures my work-damaged hands?

Fall Cookin’

Autumn brings new menus--no more BLT’s with tomatoes from the garden and no more veggies to pick for lunch.

I’ve bought several bags of local apples. The huge sweet potatoes at Small’s Grocery were so attractive that I couldn’t resist one that I baked in the microwave. Gerald and I ate on that one monster potato for two meals. I have made my first big pot of beef-vegetable soup for the season and the first apple cake I have made in over a decade. The cake is so good, but neither Gerald nor I are supposed to be eating such sweets. I used to make these all fall but doubled this recipe to fill up a large pan twice as big as the 13 by 9 inch I used on Wednesday. Of course, in those days I had a houseful of young adults to feed.

In addition to feeding the two of us, I have been reading and, of course, doing some writing. And have had a good many check-ups and doctor appointments to take up time the last couple of months. I delight in days when I do not have to go anywhere and can stay home to enjoy myself. Yesterday on what would have been my mother’s 105th birthday had she lived, Gerald took me to schedule cataract surgery on December 6th.

When we returned home, with dilated eyes and the flare-up of arthritis that is making it painful for me to walk, I had a good excuse to start reading the first of two huge volumes of translations of Anna Gambold’s diaries from Springplace mission to the Indians in Georgia. The books were ordered months ago, but were delayed so they arrived Tuesday from Amazon, where they were cheaper than at the University of Nebraska Press.

Originally written in a tiny hand script of an ancient variation of German, the diaries are now available to the world in English thanks to the painstaking and remarkable work of Dr. Rowena McClinton, who teaches at Southern Illinois University Edwardsville.

I have only read McClinton’s introduction so far and have been amazed and enlightened about the Moravian mission movement as it developed in Europe. Since I have had no world history since grade school, all of her explanations were new to me and I was fascinated with the breadth of her knowledge while wishing for more on my part. In fact, I think I will quit this blog and go read more!