Lessee - it snowed again today. Beautiful. About 1.5 inches for a total of 4.5-5 inches. After noon, I decided it was time to go the grocery store, either we really roughed it out if it continued, or peace reigned if I went to the store. I slipped and slid at 20 mph to the store. Thank TBTB for small towns and grocery stores a quarter of a mile away. An hour after I got home, I think the plow came by on the road. And also it quit snowing.
I had to put off the hissy fit if no ice cream bars were in the house for Joe. They have to be doled out by 2 a day to prevent accidents of the really smelly kind. We hide them in the freezer in the fridge in the basement and reload the upstairs freezer every day. But Joe, not being of sound mind, although not totally stoopid on things of import to him at the moment, realizes there's no box of ice cream bars in the refrigerator. Every now and then his demands to go to the store have to be actually answered to preserve the illusion.
It truly wasn't a horrid drive. I enjoyed talking to the people at the store. I was amazed at how much snow had covered the windshield in the 30 minutes I was in the store.
I've been cooking chicken stock since 4 this afternoon. I've used a whole chicken, a bunch of celery, 3 onions, 2 green peppers, 4 carrots, and a pound of chicken feet. Yep, chicken feet. I've read so much about how a perfect chicken stock that gels in the proper way needs chicken feet, that I finally broke down and at the age of 57 got chicken feet. I had to go to the Oriental market in Memphis to get them.
It is true that the first time one cooks chicken feet it's creepy. There's this moment of OMG after scalding them and beginning to chop off the little toes. Shrug. Either it makes really good stock and I want to repeat, or it doesn't add anything to our tastes and it's a never-again thing.
One of the things I absolutely love about my parents' stove is a burner that has a simmer option to it. The oddities of humans is an awesome thing. My father may have thrown fits about long distance phone calls, but he never spared when it came time to buy a stove for my mother.
The stoves he bought have been passed down and used until repairmen went into despair over the inability to buy parts anymore. One was sunken to be a couple of inches below the counter top - made stirring a breeze for shorties - and had extra space in the middle between the burners. I inherited it, and it died a final death at about 25 years of age. Couldn't get burners for it anymore.
I'll make a small pot of chicken and dumplings for Joe. He'll eat about 2 servings. Lola won't eat hot chicken, so I'll make some chicken salad for her. I have to say, of all the crazy things, I'm in the house on not really liking hot chicken. I like fried chicken occasionally, chicken and dumplings most anytime, but otherwise, let my chicken be cold. I'll can the rest of the stock and use it in various ways by quart jars.
The bacon is coming along just fine as far as I can tell. It's not really weeping liquid anymore as much as I expected. By some internet recipes I could try some tomorrow, by most others, I should wait until Saturday, two more days. Since we're not out of bacon yet, odds are I'll wait a few more days.
Tonight was a two supper night. Joe needs to be fed about every two hours. He eats breakfast about 9:30 a.m., and by 10:30 a.m. needs a snack. His lunch is about noon every day. By 2:00 p.m. he needs another snack. He needs supper by 4:00 p.m. Although he says he wants it at 5:00 p.m., he comes into the kitchen as a danger if he's not fed at 4. Then usually he can be fed a desert or a fruit at 6:30 to 7:00 p.m.
Tonight, however, he came into the kitchen at 6 p.m. swearing I hadn't fed him all day. I was on the phone with my cousin and had to hang up immediately to answer to his needs. He'd had chicken, green beans, and tomato slices at 4:00 p.m. He wanted something to eat!!!!! This meant meat. So at 6:00 p.m. he had chicken, green beans and tomato.
2 comments:
Your patience is amazing.
Any chance of pictures of your cooking? I love to see how things are coming along. I don't have the mental capacity to blog myself much right now, but I may try to get pictures of my son's olives up.
Oooh, olives? Would love to see that.
Sigh. I hafta find the cord to my camera. It's, um, upstairs. Somewhere. It's on my this-week to-do list. Plus a billion other things.
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