Thursday, March 31, 2011
No time?
I keep meaning to post something, honest! But what with my regular job, the cooking being in the depth of a bazillion maple cookie orders (season ends in a week or so, so I'm almost done) and trying to work out the possibility of changing jobs after 23 years in the same place...I don't seem to find the time! My apologies, I'll get back to it...eventually.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Ignorance is ok...if you're willing to learn
I don't mind not knowing things. I know enough to know that no one knows everything, as awkward as that sounds. If I don't know something I'm generally interested in finding the answer. Or the location, or pronunciation or whatever it is that I don't know.
Consequently, I don't mind...too much...when other people don't know things. Even when it is something that I think they should know. I fail in being understanding, upon occasion. I did, for instance, laugh out loud (it just happened, I didn't plan to hurt anyone's feelings) at the woman in front of me in line at a hotel in South Africa who wanted to know if the surf sound (the hotel was built actually over water) would go on all night, or was there a time limit? I think most people would have a hard time not being humoured by someone who didn't understand the constancy of waves.
What I don't like is someone who tells me I'm wrong, when I know as a certainty I'm right. Not talking points of philosophy here, just basic facts.
Which brings us to our story. I was shopping for Hominy today. Canned hominy. Now, I get that most people living this far from the American south would have no idea what that means. This far west and north grits are not familiar either.
Hominy, by the way, is defined in the food dictionary as:
One of the first food gifts the American Indians gave to the colonists, hominy is dried white or yellow corn kernels from which the hull and germ have been removed. This process is done either mechanically or chemically by soaking the corn in slaked lime or lye. Hominy is sold canned, ready-to-eat or dried (which must be reconstituted before using). It's commonly served as a side dish or as part of a casserole. When dried hominy is broken or very coarsely ground it's called samp. When ground, it's called hominy grits — or simply grits — and usually comes in three grinds — fine, medium and coarse.
I was at a store - which used to carry it, and a type of store where there was a faint possibility they might know what grits and/or hominy are/is. I couldn't find any. So I asked. The clerk asked me to say it again, slower (fair enough, I do talk too quickly sometimes) so I did. She said she had no idea what I was talking about. Was it English? In retrospect I don't know if she meant the language I was speaking or the ingredient I was looking for. Not that it matters!
So I told her is was dried corn, that I've only seen it white, and that it isn't like corn niblets, it's more like dried corn the way peas for split pea soup are dried. I really didn't want to get into the chemical process then. I should have.
Why? When I told her it was treated dried corn kernels, she said "I don't think so". Ok, so she's never heard of it. No big deal. So I decided that I would explain a bit. Explained the whole popular in the south, chemically treated corn, when ground referred to as grits. At which point she said "grits come from pigs".
I was seriously tempted to just say "I don't think so", but she seemed pretty certain about where grits come from, despite not even knowing what they are! So I left if. I'm sure at some point she's heard "porc and grits", or "sausage and grits" and assumed they were the same thing. Or something. I don't know. All I know is that in this instance...I'm right. And she was seriously wrong. Poor pigs, like they're not giving enough as it is! Which brings us to the end, and who better to end it than Ogden Nash? The things you remember from reading to your kids!
The pig, if I am not mistaken
Gives us ham, porc and bacon
Let others think his heart is big
I think it stupid of the pig.
Consequently, I don't mind...too much...when other people don't know things. Even when it is something that I think they should know. I fail in being understanding, upon occasion. I did, for instance, laugh out loud (it just happened, I didn't plan to hurt anyone's feelings) at the woman in front of me in line at a hotel in South Africa who wanted to know if the surf sound (the hotel was built actually over water) would go on all night, or was there a time limit? I think most people would have a hard time not being humoured by someone who didn't understand the constancy of waves.
What I don't like is someone who tells me I'm wrong, when I know as a certainty I'm right. Not talking points of philosophy here, just basic facts.
Which brings us to our story. I was shopping for Hominy today. Canned hominy. Now, I get that most people living this far from the American south would have no idea what that means. This far west and north grits are not familiar either.
Hominy, by the way, is defined in the food dictionary as:
One of the first food gifts the American Indians gave to the colonists, hominy is dried white or yellow corn kernels from which the hull and germ have been removed. This process is done either mechanically or chemically by soaking the corn in slaked lime or lye. Hominy is sold canned, ready-to-eat or dried (which must be reconstituted before using). It's commonly served as a side dish or as part of a casserole. When dried hominy is broken or very coarsely ground it's called samp. When ground, it's called hominy grits — or simply grits — and usually comes in three grinds — fine, medium and coarse.
I was at a store - which used to carry it, and a type of store where there was a faint possibility they might know what grits and/or hominy are/is. I couldn't find any. So I asked. The clerk asked me to say it again, slower (fair enough, I do talk too quickly sometimes) so I did. She said she had no idea what I was talking about. Was it English? In retrospect I don't know if she meant the language I was speaking or the ingredient I was looking for. Not that it matters!
So I told her is was dried corn, that I've only seen it white, and that it isn't like corn niblets, it's more like dried corn the way peas for split pea soup are dried. I really didn't want to get into the chemical process then. I should have.
Why? When I told her it was treated dried corn kernels, she said "I don't think so". Ok, so she's never heard of it. No big deal. So I decided that I would explain a bit. Explained the whole popular in the south, chemically treated corn, when ground referred to as grits. At which point she said "grits come from pigs".
I was seriously tempted to just say "I don't think so", but she seemed pretty certain about where grits come from, despite not even knowing what they are! So I left if. I'm sure at some point she's heard "porc and grits", or "sausage and grits" and assumed they were the same thing. Or something. I don't know. All I know is that in this instance...I'm right. And she was seriously wrong. Poor pigs, like they're not giving enough as it is! Which brings us to the end, and who better to end it than Ogden Nash? The things you remember from reading to your kids!
The pig, if I am not mistaken
Gives us ham, porc and bacon
Let others think his heart is big
I think it stupid of the pig.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Kitchen Bliss
It will likely come as no surprise that I have a lot of kitchen gadgets. Some I’ve bought, some have been gifts. Some lay forgotten and covered in dust, some get used all the time. I’ve even given a couple away, when I thought they would be put to better use elsewhere – or, to be honest, when they scare me! And there are some things that I don’t have…yet.
I’ve been contemplating a new addition to the kitchen (a toy, not an actual additional space!), and that contemplation has me thinking about toys and tools, used and forgotten. I’m willing to let you in on what I use and what I don’t, and I’d love to hear what you use in your kitchen. Or what you don’t, won’t or maybe just what you keep meaning to use…some day!
Let’s start off with the given away things. As previously mentioned, I’m afraid of things under pressure, and of vats of boiling oil. I was given a deep fat fryer once. It was used when I got it, but never used when I owned it. I am not overly fond of fried food, and I believe the combination of me, The Girl, heat and a vat ‘o fat is a bad combination. I also gave away – or possibly traded, I don’t remember anymore – a cream whipper. It worked like a charm, but the dread that I had to deal with every time I loaded a new cartridge made it one of the least used gadgets in the house.
There are a couple of things that I may have but can’t remember where I’ve put them. Things that I never liked -which is why I don’t care if they’re gone or just lost. Things like a pancake batter dispenser (difficult to clean) an electric crepe maker (I like the swirling and flipping involved in regular crepe making), a pancake cooking thing with hinges and plastic clamping bits and a fajita maker.
Ok, that last one I know where it’s hidden. It’s this big oval thing with a flat spot at one end to keep the tortillas warm and then a grill to cook peppers and meat strips on. It’s just…it seems like a lot of work. But The Girl bought it as a Christmas present one year, so I’ll keep it. And use it, just not as often as I should for the space it takes up.
We’ve had a few ice-cream makers too. One that we liked – by Donvier – eventually died. Something warped and the parts never really fit together again. We had a soft-serve maker once too. That was a gift. And if “soft-serve” means “completely liquid” then it was great. It went the way of the trash. In the end I couldn’t bring myself to make someone as frustrated as we were with the non-performance of the ice cream maker. There was a third one in there somewhere…can’t remember why we didn’t like it, but it’s gone too. We’re not big ice cream eaters so it isn’t something we’ve pursued.
I have two waffle irons. One that makes your basic rectangular waffles, one (a gift) that makes waffles in the shape of Mickey Mouse’s head. Yes, the kids would fill his ears with syrup. I questioned the whole idea of such a waffle iron but it was a huge hit with both kids. I think I’ll pass it on to my sister, now that she has babies. Not much call for Mickey Mouse waffles with teenagers!
I have a pizza stone. I’ve had it for years, actually, but only recently has it become something I can’t live without. I’ve always liked it for bread making, despite only being able to bake one loaf at a time. Primarily, though, I love it for what it does for pizza. Having reached a point where home made pizza is sooooo much better than store bought, having a stone that makes for a perfect (to me) crust is not something I’m willing to do without. Should it break, it’ll be replaced tout suite.
I have a slow cooker. I think I’ve never been without one, actually. This latest one, though, is a very specific make and model as recommended by America’s Test Kitchen. I love it, although it is really big. The one I had before broke, which wasn’t the tragedy you might think. It had the worst design ever. It was a gift, so I had nothing to do with the choosing.
The problem was the base was quite small, and then it suddenly widened out ( I tried to find a picture online of it, because narrow at the bottom wide at the top doesn't really explain the terribleness of it all, but it's as though the thing never existed). Fine if you were making a large amount of soup or something, but terrible for things like ribs or a roast or chicken. I may have to buy a second slow cooker in a few years, if both kids are far away. Truly, the one I have is monstrous!
There are lots of other toys and such, and perhaps I’ll do another post on some of the hand tools. In the mean time – for those of you that persevered and read to the end – how many of you have Dutch ovens? And do you use it? Love it? Hate it? I posed this question on Serious Eats, and have decided it’s time to get one, but I’d still like to hear from you guys too.
I’ve been contemplating a new addition to the kitchen (a toy, not an actual additional space!), and that contemplation has me thinking about toys and tools, used and forgotten. I’m willing to let you in on what I use and what I don’t, and I’d love to hear what you use in your kitchen. Or what you don’t, won’t or maybe just what you keep meaning to use…some day!
Let’s start off with the given away things. As previously mentioned, I’m afraid of things under pressure, and of vats of boiling oil. I was given a deep fat fryer once. It was used when I got it, but never used when I owned it. I am not overly fond of fried food, and I believe the combination of me, The Girl, heat and a vat ‘o fat is a bad combination. I also gave away – or possibly traded, I don’t remember anymore – a cream whipper. It worked like a charm, but the dread that I had to deal with every time I loaded a new cartridge made it one of the least used gadgets in the house.
There are a couple of things that I may have but can’t remember where I’ve put them. Things that I never liked -which is why I don’t care if they’re gone or just lost. Things like a pancake batter dispenser (difficult to clean) an electric crepe maker (I like the swirling and flipping involved in regular crepe making), a pancake cooking thing with hinges and plastic clamping bits and a fajita maker.
Ok, that last one I know where it’s hidden. It’s this big oval thing with a flat spot at one end to keep the tortillas warm and then a grill to cook peppers and meat strips on. It’s just…it seems like a lot of work. But The Girl bought it as a Christmas present one year, so I’ll keep it. And use it, just not as often as I should for the space it takes up.
We’ve had a few ice-cream makers too. One that we liked – by Donvier – eventually died. Something warped and the parts never really fit together again. We had a soft-serve maker once too. That was a gift. And if “soft-serve” means “completely liquid” then it was great. It went the way of the trash. In the end I couldn’t bring myself to make someone as frustrated as we were with the non-performance of the ice cream maker. There was a third one in there somewhere…can’t remember why we didn’t like it, but it’s gone too. We’re not big ice cream eaters so it isn’t something we’ve pursued.
I have two waffle irons. One that makes your basic rectangular waffles, one (a gift) that makes waffles in the shape of Mickey Mouse’s head. Yes, the kids would fill his ears with syrup. I questioned the whole idea of such a waffle iron but it was a huge hit with both kids. I think I’ll pass it on to my sister, now that she has babies. Not much call for Mickey Mouse waffles with teenagers!
I have a pizza stone. I’ve had it for years, actually, but only recently has it become something I can’t live without. I’ve always liked it for bread making, despite only being able to bake one loaf at a time. Primarily, though, I love it for what it does for pizza. Having reached a point where home made pizza is sooooo much better than store bought, having a stone that makes for a perfect (to me) crust is not something I’m willing to do without. Should it break, it’ll be replaced tout suite.
I have a slow cooker. I think I’ve never been without one, actually. This latest one, though, is a very specific make and model as recommended by America’s Test Kitchen. I love it, although it is really big. The one I had before broke, which wasn’t the tragedy you might think. It had the worst design ever. It was a gift, so I had nothing to do with the choosing.
The problem was the base was quite small, and then it suddenly widened out ( I tried to find a picture online of it, because narrow at the bottom wide at the top doesn't really explain the terribleness of it all, but it's as though the thing never existed). Fine if you were making a large amount of soup or something, but terrible for things like ribs or a roast or chicken. I may have to buy a second slow cooker in a few years, if both kids are far away. Truly, the one I have is monstrous!
There are lots of other toys and such, and perhaps I’ll do another post on some of the hand tools. In the mean time – for those of you that persevered and read to the end – how many of you have Dutch ovens? And do you use it? Love it? Hate it? I posed this question on Serious Eats, and have decided it’s time to get one, but I’d still like to hear from you guys too.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Better than Bank Robbery
Call me crazy (oh come on, you do it anyway, with at least the courtesy to not say it to my face!) but...I've sent in an application for a food franchise.
I haven't heard back yet and no, it's not like my heart's set on it, but it would be worth trying. Even for a year. If after a year it's making money but I want my job back I'll hire someone to run it. Or Hire The Girl who will be finished high school by then. Or maybe The Boy, but I suspect his introversion would not be a good match. If it's really doing well and I love it and it's paying the bills, I'll quit the government job (after 23 years!) altogether and run it until I'm ready to retire. If it isn't making money, or I just don't like the headache I'll sell the franchise.
Or maybe...maybe the person that they said they hadn't heard from yet will have grabbed it in the interim. And I'll stay at this job for...well, until I can afford retirement I guess!
All because I'm feeling restless and out of sorts. Which usually makes me want to rob a bank. But given that jail as a deterrent works for me, that ain't gonna happen. And I'd feel guilty about bank costs going up for the customers and so on. I'd make a terrible criminal!
I haven't heard back yet and no, it's not like my heart's set on it, but it would be worth trying. Even for a year. If after a year it's making money but I want my job back I'll hire someone to run it. Or Hire The Girl who will be finished high school by then. Or maybe The Boy, but I suspect his introversion would not be a good match. If it's really doing well and I love it and it's paying the bills, I'll quit the government job (after 23 years!) altogether and run it until I'm ready to retire. If it isn't making money, or I just don't like the headache I'll sell the franchise.
Or maybe...maybe the person that they said they hadn't heard from yet will have grabbed it in the interim. And I'll stay at this job for...well, until I can afford retirement I guess!
All because I'm feeling restless and out of sorts. Which usually makes me want to rob a bank. But given that jail as a deterrent works for me, that ain't gonna happen. And I'd feel guilty about bank costs going up for the customers and so on. I'd make a terrible criminal!
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Cooking Tuesday, two days late
I think, actually, that I'm going to give up trying to do something specific in the blog on a specific day. As soon as I planned it, things kept happening to make it not happen, if that makes any sense.
I did have an interesting bit of cooking, however - interesting to me, at any rate - last night. I'd been hired to cater a gluten-free funeral. Or wake, the funeral itself can have as much wheat as it wants! And relax - no one in la famille Hingston has passed away.
The funeral is for (now follow carefully!) a co-worker's brother's mother-in-law. The daughter (wife of co-worker's brother) is the one with Celiac disease.
I've catered one funeral, and I've done lots of things for this co-worker when she is doing a birthday or something for her sister-in-law, but this was quite a bit more involved. Fun to think about (not the death part, the what on earth to make without flour part) as it happens. In the end, I made a layered pesto and sun-dried tomato torte with gluten free crackers to spread it on, chocolate brownies with a chocolate honey glaze, vanilla caramels with salted chocolate topping, coconut macaroons, chocolate fudge and Texas pralines. Only two things were chocolate-free, but that's what they asked for: no wheat, heavy on the chocolate. So that's what they're getting.
I did have an interesting bit of cooking, however - interesting to me, at any rate - last night. I'd been hired to cater a gluten-free funeral. Or wake, the funeral itself can have as much wheat as it wants! And relax - no one in la famille Hingston has passed away.
The funeral is for (now follow carefully!) a co-worker's brother's mother-in-law. The daughter (wife of co-worker's brother) is the one with Celiac disease.
I've catered one funeral, and I've done lots of things for this co-worker when she is doing a birthday or something for her sister-in-law, but this was quite a bit more involved. Fun to think about (not the death part, the what on earth to make without flour part) as it happens. In the end, I made a layered pesto and sun-dried tomato torte with gluten free crackers to spread it on, chocolate brownies with a chocolate honey glaze, vanilla caramels with salted chocolate topping, coconut macaroons, chocolate fudge and Texas pralines. Only two things were chocolate-free, but that's what they asked for: no wheat, heavy on the chocolate. So that's what they're getting.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Here we are, March first, and what is the temperature? -38 with the wind chill. -30 if you don’t count the wind chill. And believe you me, the only time you don’t count is if you’re not here. Take my word for it: when you can guess the temperature with a fair degree of accuracy by the angle of a person’s body when walking into the wind, the chill factor counts.
Am I, however, about to post a sad and bitter post about how awful it all is, and how unhappy I am? No, I am not! As it happens, things are starting to bubble up that have turned my thoughts to warmer times.
First of all, last week I got a reminder via email to send in my payment for the garden plot for this summer! And this week…the first gardening catalogue arrived in the mail. This wouldn’t be happening with months and months of winter to get through now would it?
Also, even though I’ve decided that I don’t want to own large animals (unless, of course, I’m a multi-millionaire and someone else looks after them for me) because of the travel restrictions they cause, I’m not giving up on the idea of beekeeping. SIAST is not making it easy for me – they haven’t offered their beekeeping course in years and years. But years ago, to my great and lasting delight (yes, Graeme and Bron, I know you think I’m a nut bar and mayhap you are right) I got to go to a real working honey farm. It was, like, the bestest thing. I had a great time. And came home with lots of honey!
I still have an ever-expanding honey collection. Most friends – and once a friend of a friend who knows about me – bring me honey when they travel. From right next door to around the world, I have some really wonderful honey. Locally, a friend brought me some creamed honey with added herbs. Made by monks, I think. I could be wrong about that, that could just be a weird connection in my mind. Monks, honey, mead, herbs. They’re all interconnected in my mind. And another friend brought me some French lavender honey. One of the “must haves” for honey collectors, I was very glad to get some. I think at the moment – not counting a couple of Canadian honeys – I probably have a least a dozen different honeys from about as many countries. Lucky me.
Anyway – since I am not yet moving to the island, and with the garden plot I’m as close as I can be for the moment to urban farming, I decided to move on with the possibility of a future honey farm. And to that end I sent in an application last week to join the Regina and District Bee Club. And I got an email today thanking me for cheque and application. I’m in!
So there. Yes, it is ferociously cold out there. And yes, last weekend – last week, for that matter – sucked. But spring is coming, I will learn new things and tonight I’m going out for supper with my boy and a friend of his. Life is good.
Am I, however, about to post a sad and bitter post about how awful it all is, and how unhappy I am? No, I am not! As it happens, things are starting to bubble up that have turned my thoughts to warmer times.
First of all, last week I got a reminder via email to send in my payment for the garden plot for this summer! And this week…the first gardening catalogue arrived in the mail. This wouldn’t be happening with months and months of winter to get through now would it?
Also, even though I’ve decided that I don’t want to own large animals (unless, of course, I’m a multi-millionaire and someone else looks after them for me) because of the travel restrictions they cause, I’m not giving up on the idea of beekeeping. SIAST is not making it easy for me – they haven’t offered their beekeeping course in years and years. But years ago, to my great and lasting delight (yes, Graeme and Bron, I know you think I’m a nut bar and mayhap you are right) I got to go to a real working honey farm. It was, like, the bestest thing. I had a great time. And came home with lots of honey!
I still have an ever-expanding honey collection. Most friends – and once a friend of a friend who knows about me – bring me honey when they travel. From right next door to around the world, I have some really wonderful honey. Locally, a friend brought me some creamed honey with added herbs. Made by monks, I think. I could be wrong about that, that could just be a weird connection in my mind. Monks, honey, mead, herbs. They’re all interconnected in my mind. And another friend brought me some French lavender honey. One of the “must haves” for honey collectors, I was very glad to get some. I think at the moment – not counting a couple of Canadian honeys – I probably have a least a dozen different honeys from about as many countries. Lucky me.
Anyway – since I am not yet moving to the island, and with the garden plot I’m as close as I can be for the moment to urban farming, I decided to move on with the possibility of a future honey farm. And to that end I sent in an application last week to join the Regina and District Bee Club. And I got an email today thanking me for cheque and application. I’m in!
So there. Yes, it is ferociously cold out there. And yes, last weekend – last week, for that matter – sucked. But spring is coming, I will learn new things and tonight I’m going out for supper with my boy and a friend of his. Life is good.
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