Blue Cauliflower Makes Vegetable Hating Husband Happy

The purple cauliflower was 50 cents less precious than the white.  Husband had said he likes cauliflower.  Thus, experiment began.  Blanched for 5 minutes in salted water.  Shocked in ice water.  Dumped in casserole pan, sprinkled with chicken bullion and covered in grated guere.  Baked at 400 degrees for 5 minutes.  Gone in minutes!

Watermelon

I've been thinking about watermelon.  As we purchased a couple of them last night, I remembered a few . . . .

There was one that I won at the 4th of July picnic in the downtown park in Palisade, Colorado when I was in 4th grade.  Bennett Young was running the "prize wheel."  I think it was a dollar a number.  He spun the wheel, it landed on MY number.  I won a big watermelon.  I felt like the luckiest kid on earth.  Not sure how many they gave away that day.  I've had a saying all my life that has morphed a bit but started a few years later.  It goes like this:

"I don't really gamble.  Maybe 5 lottery tickets in my life, a bit of gambling in Vegas when I had to go there for work and met my friends there.  In my family, we're not all that lucky.  We work for what we get.  Pretty much topped out when I won a watermelon at the 4th of July picnic when I was in 4th grade."

Of course, part of that was that it was the first summer we lived there.  I was new in the town my parents grew up in and just learning to enjoy small town life.  My parents knew EVERYONE.  As we walked around everyone wanted to talk to my Dad.  People have always been drawn to him.

Mary Lou Manning (the grandma I chose for myself a few years later) saw my Mom across the street at the Memorial Parade that next year.  She told me that she turned to her husband, Wilbert and said something close to, "she's so beautiful and happy, I'd love to know her."  A few weeks later my Dad stopped by to see Wilbert, his old family friend.  They arranged a dinner with their spouses and BAMB she spotted my Mom and was so excited to know her that the friendship became family.  I spent nights of football games at their house making banana bread with her, learning to make my favorite pickles and taking LONG baths in their great big old claw foot bathtub.  I now realize it was the only bathroom in the house :D.  Not one knock. EVER.

More about them later . . . . they WERE love and family to me.

The other watermelon on my mind was when I was a bit older, maybe 12.  We were camping above 10,000 ft. on Grand Mesa.  Haven't been there in years - still my favorite place on earth. We didn't own a tent yet so we slept in our big station wagon.  Dad, Mom and Lisa slept on a foam pad in the back.  I slept on the seat under those big window skylights.  I watched a meteor shower for HOURS.  Not sure how many I saw but it had to have been thousands.  The next day Dad retrieved a HUGE watermelon from it's spot in the creek.  It had been there to keep cool in the cold, mountain spring water that tasted better than anything I've ever had since.  Watermelon was cold as ice, the day was sunny and warm.  It was perfect.

I hope these taste like that when we eat them with our kids this week.

White Chocolate Macadamia Nut Cookies

Chelsea (my soon-to-be daughter) and I made the cookies together tonight.  We creamed 3 sticks of butter (for a double batch) along with 1 and 1/4 cup packed brown sugar and 2 cups of white sugar.  Added 2 eggs and 3 teaspoons of vanilla.  I am spending more money for real vanilla these days.  Never thought it made much of a difference but the 3 or 4 dollars more is well worth it.

We then mixed in 4 cups of flour that had been blended with 2 teaspoons of baking soda and a teaspoon of salt.

The fun part for Chelsea was taking the hammer out to the sidewalk with the macadamia nuts to smash them.  (At least the sending her out there was fun anyway!!).

This is the external thermometer that I've added to the stove in our rental house.  The temperature fluctuates by 150 to 200 degrees.  This device answered a lot of questions I had about constantly setting off our smoke detector . . . :).

We didn't have time to bake all the cookies because the new season of Breaking Bad began tonight.     So, we baked one round of two cookie sheets full and I rolled the rest into two rolls to freeze for the next time the kids are over.  Steve and I certainly don't need more than the dozen or so that came out in the first batch hanging around until then.

About 2 inches in diameter  rolled in parchment paper and then sealed in plastic wrap

Roll the ends tightly -
if you plan to keep it for awhile before you use it; you might want to make your roll shorter and place it in a gallon freezer bag to stave off freezer burn.

Here are the rolls in our "too small freezer" next to one of my bags of colored bell peppers.  I have bags of yellow, orange, red and green bell peppers (as well as some other types of peppers) that I use when cooking.  I buy them ONLY WHEN THEY ARE ON SALE.  I found 8 bags of all of those colors on the discount produce rack at the local Meijers and chopped them up to use in all kinds of things.

I also dried some hot dog buns that had been left open on the counter to make bread pudding but Chelsea wanted to make cookies - so I'll do the bread pudding within the next few days.  The pizza pan worked perfectly to finish drying them in the oven at the "warm" setting in about 20 minutes.

That's it for tonight!

-

Cooking for Fun

I made tilapia with a dill, lemon sauce and fresh green beens, frenched in the food processor with sweet onion and sliced almonds for dinner tonight.  My "fella I love" has been telling me I should write a food blog.  Not an adjunct to my blog, but an ACTUAL food blog.

Not sure I'm ready to do that at this juncture, as I'm crazy busy with work, wedding plans, new house decisions, moving and trying to get out kayaking a few times before the snow flies.

Here is a picture of the finished plate:

The sauce is minced garlic, a couple of Tablespoons of dill (I buy the dill in the tube in the fresh herb section when they are on sale), 3 Tablespoons-ish of olive oil, juice of one lemon, a LOT of fresh pepper. salt, and mayonnaise as well as a bit of left over cream cheese and a bit of milk to get the last of the mayo out of the jar.  Added some kosher salt just to bring the flavors out.  Chilled that while I prepared and baked the tilapia.

I heavily salted the water and once it boiled, added a couple of cups of fresh beans.  I chopped off the ends, sized them, laid them in the food processor chute on the horizontal and ran them through with the chopper blade attachment.  I then boiled them for about 6 minutes, drained them into a colander to stop the cooking without rinsing (didn't want them cold).  Put it in a large bowl, drizzled a bit of olive oil, added a couple pats of butter and tossed.  Then I tossed in lots of sliced almond and dropped it in a casserole dish for serving.

Baked the tilapia on foil covered cookie sheet for about 13 minutes at 425 degrees.  Added the sauce and had a lovely white wine standing by to enjoy.

That was dinner tonight.  Also used the food processor to cut 2 cucumbers and a half a large sweet onion, whisked together 1/2 cup of sugar, 1 cup of white vinegar, 1/2 cup warm water, I Tablespoon freshly ground pepper, 1 teaspoon kosher salt and 1/2 teaspoon of celery seeds, whisk until sugar dissolves and add 1 1/2 cups cold water.  Cover the cucumbers and onions in a glass bowl with the dressing and refrigerate overnight.

Dentists

I had a tooth pulled today.  They offered me headphones and gas.  I said, “No, thank you.  I’m not nervous.  I had a great dentist as a kid.”

Bless Dr. Ryan, my childhood dentist.  He was wonderful.  I used to watch him work on my teeth in his glasses.  He inspired trust and confidence.  He shook your lip when he gave you the shot . . . I had no idea there was a needle involved until I was much older.

He had short dark hair and big dark framed glasses.  He had a gentle manner and made me glad to be a brave girl.  He set me up for a lifetime of confidence that has rarely been misplaced.

Thank you Dr. Ryan (and thank you to my parents for the great dental work that I’m sure was tough to afford as young parents)!

Promises

I’ve been thinking about promises. . .

. . .  specifically the reprehensible kind.

If you make a promise and, upon reflection, realize that it’s not an honorable promise:  what is your responsibility then?  Keep it?  Regardless of it’s impact on others?

I’m not sure.

I’ve made some promises that I regretted.  Broken some that I shouldn’t have and some that needed breaking.  Had some broken that were made to me. 

Permit me some background on these thoughts. 

My mother painted a picture of the beautiful place where she placed her father’s ashes.  It meant enough to her that she memorialized it in color.  She pasted a detailed map on the back of exactly the vista where she consecrated him.  That says, to me, that the spot meant something for her.

The man to whom her husband entrusted everything they owned and her remains promised never to reveal where he interred her to our family.  Feels the definition of a reprehensible promise to me.  So, not only is that information lost to me.  It’s lost to my family forever.

Is that not the definition of reprehensible?

Grandpa's Spot

Dad's Touchstone

I sent my father a new Petoskey stone.   Some years ago I gave him one that someone I had helped gave to me.  He carried it in his pocket.  It was unpolished but Dad polished it, over time, just touching it. 


He recently lost it . . . I found him another. Mailing it made me think about my touchstone.  What brings me peace in the times when things are hardest?  


One of the best for me is his voice. It’s simply the sound of Dad’s voice.  Certainly, we disagree about many, many things.  It’s not what he says, more just the deep timbre and cadence of the way he talks. 


That voice has always been there and I followed it home. 


Once from the brink of blackness, that fuzzy edge where the world drops away.

Once from real blackness . . . . softly speaking to me in ICU.



Often, unknown to him, in the night when the aloneness reigns.


So, Dad has his new stone to polish, and as often as his fingers touch the stone to put it in his pocket, I will hear his voice in my head.