Slow Sunday Night

We are one of the last households/holdouts that don't have cable tv. We have our aerial on the roof, and for the most part, it provides us with all we can desire viewing-wise. I would like to think we are not into tv all that much, but somehow I manage to find enough to keep me amused of an evening. What really appalls me is when we are travelling, and we have all those wonderful cable possibilities, and there still isn't anything on that I want to watch. So, I have never felt the lure to sign on with the system that is going to send me a monthly bill--another monthly bill....

Well--the big change to digital. We got the boxes, hooked up all our equipment, plugged everything in, and low and behold, it all works pretty well. Once in a while there is a problem with CBS, where it completely dissolves into little squares, but most of the time, there are alternatives, and this hasn't been a problem. But--tonight, there was only one program that interested me on PBS. And it broke up into those little unwatchable bits. I come down to my trusty computer, to check out a few things, like the schedule for the Metropolitan Opera, since I see they are doing Tosca for opening night tomorrow. Of course, I punch up Facebook, just to be nosey, and what do I find? Everyone is on Facebook, commenting away. Must be there is NOTHING on tv--even for the people with the fancy cable set-ups, and the tivo thingys. Ha! So "Hi" everyone! Better to talk with real people--even if it is in short sentences. Love Ya'

How Did This Happen?

My family enjoyed eating as much as any family does--all the big holiday gatherings, with big tables of food. But, half my family was German, and the other half Swedish. Not an Italian in the bunch. Hence, the food was plentiful, but not the divine experience that Mediterraneans seem to describe when recalling banquets of holidays past. My Swedish grandmother was an excellent cook, but hampered by tradition--her chicken fricassee was wonderful, and she did very fine creamed everything, but there was never a hint of garlic, or heaven forbid, red pepper flakes.

MyTreasure came from a fine upstate Yankee tradition, and every year they had a large garden, which gave them access to the freshest of ingredients--the likes of which I had never experienced in my upbringing on suburban Long Island. I admit to being appalled at what they left lying in the dirt in their garden--"Oh-that's gone past--pick this one." What luxury, all that fresh produce. Only thing was, they weren't too experimental with their recipes. "Mother's recipe" was the best, even though it was lacking in interesting ( or pretty much any) spices.

So what happened? I married in 1966, and stayed home with my children. Sesame Street came onto TV when my first baby was a year old. Perfect timing. I watched (or at least had on the telly) twice a day for 14 years, I figure, since we had five kiddies. That was pretty much the only TV that they were allowed to watch when they were little. But--at noon, and then at twelve thirty, came Julia Child, and Graham Kerr, the Galloping Gourmet. That was my time. I watched. I learned. I cooked. I fed my family--day in and day out, for a lot of years. I got pretty good at it. I guess over all this time, there hasn't been much I haven't tried in the kitchen. And we learned, MyTreasure and I, to enjoy fine food.

Monday this week, we took a trip up to the Hudson Valley, to visit that Mecca of Phudophiles, the CIA. (For you non-foodies, the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park.) We had been given gift certificates for two Christmases in a row by our son, and it was time to use them. Timing is everything, and for the CIA it has to be just right. So, we went, we took the tour, we spent time in the gift shop, we luxuriated in the whole experience, and it was wonderful. It was fabulous. It was everything we were expecting. How did we get this way? Are we enjoying our retirement way too much? I wish my life for you all...

Word Gets Around...

My friends and I all had children around the same time, and the "kids" have all passed into their thirties, some well into their thirties. They are finally starting to count up and realize that time is passing, and that they should be getting on with their lives, so in the last year we went to four family weddings, and this year there have been a bunch more, with at least two more scheduled for the spring.

I put together the bridal veil for my son's beautiful fiancee, and now I seem to be the go-to person for veils. Last weekend we went to a wedding, and the bride was bedecked with one of my creations. She liked it so well that she left it on all day, even at the after party when she had changed into comfy clothes. I'm glad she was happy with it. Best wishes to the happy couple!

"What's For Dinner?"

As chief cook it is my duty to come up with dinner. Since this has gone on night after night for many, many years, there are spells when I simply do not want to face that question. Having five children who each at one point would come into the kitchen at the moment things were going onto the stove and ask that question "WFD?", I grew weary of answering, especially when receiving negative responses to my selections, and finally posted a blackboard with the menu written on it. They never answered back to the blackboard--just read it and went on their way. Now they are all grown and gone, and the only one who has to ask AND answer the question is me. Sometimes I procrastinate, and other times I get out there and cook up a storm.

Today was a p-day. I had gotten a wonderful new grill earlier in July, but have only lit it up twice. I haven't had a decent hamburger all summer, mostly for lack of having any rolls in the house. The ones from the store seem to self-destruct in the freezer--and what are two people going to do with eight hamburger rolls, anyway? I just don't buy them anymore. So-what to do. Go to the store and buy the buns, just so I can make a hamburger? No--try the internet. What did we ever do before that? Look--recipes for hamburger buns! Yay! One makes a dozen, but another uses whole wheat flour, plus an egg--maybe they will freeze well.

So, back to the kitchen. I get out my trusty Kitchen Aid, knead up some dough, and voila! Buns! They look a little tall, so maybe will squish them down more the next time (if we like them) or cut the recipe in half, and divide the dough into six (the original recipe makes eight). Looks like there will be dinner after all! Now, about those burgers--it's already 5:30, and the beef is still frozen downstairs in the freezer. We have been moving our dinner hour later and later these days, and I confess I like it better that way (or at least that's the excuse...)

Ever Heard of Grape Pie?

A couple of years ago in the fall, we decided to take a look at the wineries in the Finger Lakes. We had vacationed there many years ago, before the real interest in New York State wines had started up, and back when the vintners were still making sweet wines out of native variety grapes. Being the winos--oh, oh, I mean wine lovers that we are, we decided we would like to see how things there had progressed. Garden Fairy and hubby were going to meet us there--it was going to be a fun trip. We had visited in Rochester, and made our way back across by way of the scenic route, and found a few interesting things along the way.

One curiosity was grape pie. We came through a little town called Naples, and all of a sudden there were hand lettered signs along the sides of the road advertising "Mom's Grape Pies" and "Molly's Best Grape Pies". Now pies are made out of everything from strawberries and yams, to green tomatoes, with every other kind of fruit ( and veggies) in between. Never heard of "grape pie" before. There was a little sandwich place that we came to, with the obligatory "Grape Pie Here" sign out front, and since it was lunch time we decided to give it a whirl. Had the grape pie. Very nice. Very purple...

It turns out that Naples is the grape pie capitol of the world--we haven't come across it any place else. I couldn't resist buying a box of grapes and taking them home. I made jam, and put up filling for one pie into the freezer. It's been in there all this time, waiting on just the right opportunity for consumption--of course to be shared at GF's house. I baked it up, and it came out a little soupy--guess grapes are all juice, so maybe a little more thickener if I ever try it again. The flavor is very intense--like very strong blueberry, but of course, it's grape. I confess, I'll always remember little Naples...