I wish you could be in my kitchen about now. It smells like I’m cooking something wonderful and I am, sort of. Farmer Sam, my produce supplier, is still bringing me onions every week. Since I only use about one tablespoon a day on my salad, it was time to have a major onion – cookin’. I put on my onion cooking outfit (my pjs) and got it going.
First, of course, I googled onion recipes and came up with one I consider brilliant. You carmalize them in your crotch pot. (We call it the crotch pot because that’s what my friend Kate calls it).
Not many things I bake turn out all that good. Yesterday I experienced an exception that made by heart sing.
Someone unknown to me at this point, left a whole heap of fresh picked tomatoes on my porch last Sunday. I’m sorry, but I’m a bit selfish when it comes to a ripe homegrown tomato. So rather than share, I’ve been eating BLTs, stewing them up into pasta sauce and yesterday I made a recipe which appears in my book (to be released in September).
Okay, so I have too much time on my hands. And I wasn’t invited to a single 4th of July party today – the biggy is tomorrow, so I decided to take a day of total freedom. I’m not doing one thing except what the spirit moves me to do. No “to do” list and no work whatsoever.
Something important has been missing from my life and for days I’ve been pondering what has sent me to the far edge of my questionable sanity. Then, lo and behold it came to me as I was lunching with a friend at the Café Ritz in West Point.
Do you wash a lemon before putting a slice in your water? Do you use the same kitchen towel to wipe your hands and counters? Do you grab ice from your freezer with bare hands? Do you have furry things growing in your vegetable drawer.
For me that would be yes, yes, yes, and yes. All four would be considered major health violations in a restaurant and by all rights, my kitchen should be shut down. I hope my Easter Dinner guests don’t read my blog or they will never come back.