While in the kitchen this afternoon to make dinner rolls and a batch of muffins, I discovered that the carrots were no longer happy with their storage method. Lacking a root cellar, I had scrubbed the carrots, popped them into bags and put them in the drawer in the bottom of the refrigerator. The previous batch of carrots hadn’t objected to this treatment, beyond sprouting little roots and trying desperately to grow new tops. This new batch was rotting. My guess is that I had not closed the bag tightly the first time, allowing the carrots to “breathe”; these newer …
We opened up the first cheese last night. A gouda. Not quite two months old. It tastes like cheese, and although it’s not quite like gouda, it’s surprisingly yummy. It’s soft and creamy still in the center, which makes it hard to plane for sandwiches. If I’d left it to age for another month or so, perhaps that would be different. But, it’s HOMEMADE CHEESE! Save
When I got started on it this morning, the vision for dinner was potato soup. When the garden produces 48 pounds of potatoes, that’s a lot of potatoes to discover/invent ways to eat. Some of them are starting to show their age (perhaps the pantry is slightly warmer than the perfect potato storage temperature), but they still soup nicely. But there was half a sweet potato in the fridge that I threw into the pot with the sautéd onions and the dried bell peppers. I added one of the jars of whey from cheesemaking last month and the whey that …
The other day, Caitlyn asked for a definition of “girlfriend, like when grown-ups get married.” So I defined, aiming in grand parental fashion, for age-appropriateness and a balance between traditional definitions and using too many words to explain the various non-traditional relationships in our lives. Caitlyn then announced, “Me and Alik are girlfriend and boyfriend.” This was followed by a description of the afternoon’s events on the playground, a game that seems to consist of sitting at the bottom of the slide and waiting for the other person to crash into you as they come down. And then, nonchalantly, she …
Reality Intervened, after I had promised Caitlyn project time after school today, and she was all set for some no-sew fabric crafting. Instead, we made dinner. I’d been reading about Solar Oven Chef’s frittata and Hip Chick’s kale tortilla, so: She chose the potatoes from the pantry, then scrubbed them clean. I peeled and chopped. She put the water in the pot and carried the full pot to the stove, were we turned on the burner together. She watched the pot to be sure it didn’t boil over. I sautéd onions. She added the broccoli. I drained the potatoes, and …
Ian and I seem to have acquired a stomach bug and, as a result, Caitlyn got to watch The Wizard of Oz this afternoon. This was her first occasion to talk to the characters on screen, telling Dorothy and Co., “Hurry! Hurry! Run!” while they were attempting an escape from the Witch. And thus is the future habit of telling horror movie victims, “Not that way! Can’t you hear the soundtrack cues?!?” born.