It’s winter. Not really boating weather, as much as Tom wishes it were as he scans the local online weather reports several hours each day. He keeps hoping that if he concentrates his thoughts hard enough the winds might change direction or temperatures get just a tad warmer.
Each day he says, well, I think I’ll go over to the boat day after tomorrow, the weather is forecast to be really favorable that day. But, when that day arrives, it is never as favorable as he had prayed it would be.
He always goes to Mardi Gras in New Orleans in the winter, but this year, Mardi Gras is “late” – not until March 8. The day after – Ash Wednesday – begins the countdown toward Easter, which, in turn, will also be later than usual. Easter this year will be on the last Sunday in April – April 24.
It’s also not music festivals time of year or weather, either. He loves to go to as many music festivals as he can every year around New Orleans, and he even works security for some of them, in exchange for getting in free, getting paid a small amount and getting to hang out around the stages. But, those don’t crank up until late March, if not mid-April.
In other words – this is a dead time of year. It’s winter. So, he’s had a lot of time on his hands. He’s bored.
He’s amassed a rather large collection of electronic toys already, and those fill a good bit of his time, as well as costing me a bundle of money. But, that’s at least one blog post, if not more, for another day.
Today, we’re going to talk about his recent venture into the world of domesticity. Cooking, to be exact. And not exactly at the chef’s level, either, as much as he wanders around the house seeking praise for his culinary skills. I mean, he’s got the bravado down pat. What he’s really hoping is that will translate into everyone (me) seeing his work is much too important than to require that he clean up after himself when he’s been working in the kitchen.
And, boy, can he make a mess.
That’s afterward, though. Let’s begin at the beginning.
First and foremost, he’s very selective about what dishes he wants to invest his time and energy into. He’s long been into the manly art of grilling and smoking all sorts of meats with all sorts of marinades and accoutrements. I think, and so does just about everyone who has ever partaken of his tasty meats, fish and shrimp from the grill or smoker, that Tom’s dishes are the best I’ve had anywhere. We rarely ever order steak when we go out to eat because his grilled steaks are to die for and few others compare.
Then, there’s his award winning smoked baby back pork ribs, rubbed with our special dry rub mixture and then doused at the table in Tom’s best friend Ron’s mother’s secret homemade Kentucky BBQ sauce. We are one of the very exclusive few who have been honored with the recipe, but we cannot and will not divulge it to anyone else. They are awesome!
He’s always also, on special occasions, been open to fixin’ big breakfasts. Usually, when we have overnight guests he can feed. His specialties include egg dishes of all sorts – omelets, scrambled eggs, fried eggs or perhaps French toast. Bacon and/or sausage is a must, as well as biscuits, with toast being a poor substitute. He makes good waffles, but his couple of tries at pancakes didn’t turn out too well. He’s still honing that skill.
Lately, however, much to my chagrin, he’s expanded his interests in preparing food. In my kitchen. Without my help or advice.
It began when he was helping me by emptying the dish washer. He was looking in the cabinets and cupboards and pantry at what all was in there and what was not. He came to the conclusion that even though I’ve been cooking since I was a young girl of about eight or 10, and have always been considered a good (and efficient, if I might say so) cook, my kitchen utensils and equipment were desperately lacking.
First, we needed a blender.
“Well,” I said, “We had one till I went out to Texas leaving you home alone and you burned it up partying.”
“Oh,” he said.
[Side note: He either burned up the blender or blew it up, or both partying with the grandkids. I never did get the whole story, nor do I probably want to know.]
Nevertheless, we had to go out shopping for one. When he gets on a quest, there is no deterring him. I mean, you think women are bad (and I’m not a shopper) – you should see Tom on a shopping quest. We have to go to every single store that could possibly, or even remotely, sell whatever he’s seeking. He’s the same about it whether it comes to electronics, computers, TVs, music, household appliances, kitchen appliances large and small and even utensils.
I never want to spend the money. He always starts at the top end with whatever he thinks “we” “need” and I have to work him down to reality. It worked out well with the new blender. We found one at Hudson’s Salvage here in Picayune in a damaged box that we later found out was the very same price as one at Walmart we had somehow missed. But, he thought it was a great bargain, so we got it.
Then, “we” “needed” a toaster. Again, I pointed out what was the obvious to me, “We already have a really nice big toaster oven that makes toast.”
“But, it’s not the same as from a real toaster,” he said. “You know – the toast doesn’t pop up.”
I held out as long as I could, which was a long time, but he finally got his way and we have a separate toaster, now. It’s only a two slice toaster, not four, like he wanted, but a “real” one, anyway.
Of course, then he wanted to leave it sitting out on my kitchen counter top. If we had every single small kitchen appliance that he thinks “we” should have, I would need a kitchen about five times bigger because he likes to look at them right there in front of him, “handy to use,” he says. I say they clutter my counter tops so that I have no space for mixing up ingredients and cooking. So far, I’m winning, but we are running out of storage space – rapidly now, the past few months – so I don’t know how much longer this will work. Him cooking, I mean. And buying more “necessities” for the kitchen. And finding places to store them.
That’s because . . . and this is hard for me to say . . . he made his latest kitchen appliance purchase when I totally screwed up sent him alone to the grocery store (our teeny, tiny, yet “Super” Walmart) to buy some groceries and he came home with a humongous crock pot. I’m thinking the thing must hold about 25 gallons. On sale, of course. Cheap. Except when you want to cook with it and have to fill it to 3/4 with food. Or have to eat and eat and eat from it for about two weeks after with all of the leftovers. Then, freeze what remains after that.
I mean, this thing holds a LOT of food. For two people.
It also takes up a whole LOT of space. For any number of people.
And, now he’s always wanting to create dishes using it. People, we are in trouble.
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To Be Continued . . . As you’ll read next time (I promise really soon!). I’ve gone on too long already, so must stop here.
Cheers! And many blessings to each of you today! Dee
