I don’t like to cook. But if I were to get the urge, I would be very much confused.
If guests were on the horizon I would have to find out if the good people are vegetarians or vegans.
Also must ask about allergies. Milk? gluten? fish? or some other barrier placed just so I have trouble cooking.
Mind you a person could go to the grocery store and buy stuff in a box, clam shell or frozen and needing a good cooking. Just this past week I went to the Wholesale to buy a few things. I needed sweet potatoes for the dogs and I.
Then I noticed I could buy butternut squash cut to look like rotini pasta. They also had long noodles made from rutabaga. I bought both. The squash rotini was quite good. A little butter and cream cheese made a nice meal.
I looked around at a few more items. I could get some low fat food or low sodium. How about something in the tofu department? I could get a few tofu wieners or some cheese with the same ingredients, but different shape. I could get hamburger that isn’t. Mushed up with peas, spices and some other words I didn’t know.
For my money there are too many choices.
What happened to having a simple meal plan? You know meat and potatoes kind of fare.
I have an idea those of you from the post-war and depression era remember how things were. At least it was that way in my family.
My mother cooked every meal. No such thing as a pizza nor did we have fast food places. That occurred during the 1950s.
We had a Dairy Queen that served ice cream. We had a fish and chip place where one lady made all the food which was warm chips and fish in newspaper.
I can fondly remember those home cooked meals. Every Sunday was a roast beef dinner with Yorkshire pudding, vegetables etc. Dessert was usually lemon meringue pie made from actual lemons. Not a darn thing in a box.
I liked other meals as well. Fried blood sausage or pig’s feet. Crackling was a big treat. That is pig skin cooked in the oven, mm tasty. It behooves me to tell you I very much liked tripe.
I saw that look!
I guess not many liked that rubbery food. Head cheese and steak and kidney pie or as my mother called it –Kate and Sydney .
Fiinnan Haddie anyone? Oyster stew or fried oysters? Clam chowder?
We had no allergies to one thing or another and if for some reason you didn’t like what my mother served well forget about it. She was not about to rush herself silly just to please us.
I have an idea many of you at this very moment are remembering a fine dinner your mom made for the family.
It might have been some tasty ethnic dish that you still prepare to this day.
No doubt it is made from real food and not some new concoction that fits the needs for this new time of culinary curiosities.
Did I cook a meal for myself this very night? Not really. I had dog food. Not out of the can but some hamburger I cooked up was shared between all of us. Even the cat enjoyed his hamburger.
I shook out some frozen vegetables to add to my burger. The dogs had doggy stuff added to their dinner. Dry food, pure pumpkin, coconut oil, omega 3 6 9 capsule, and a pill for River, the dog with cancer.
Takes me longer to make a nice dinner for the dogs than is does to make something for myself.
I knew I should be making something I might like for dinner but to be honest food bores me to tears.
I would rather write words to you and many friends from other places.
I am much happier when I go outside to look at birds and walk the dogs and the old cat.
By the way September 7 was the first day I had seen the cranes fly over. Does that seem early to you?
I will leave this for now. Time to go outside and enjoy this beautiful place.
You could call me at 250-846-5095 or email a note to firstname.lastname@example.org.