Life and Sundry
I have around 30ish recipes for oatmeal on this site. For someone who isn't a huge fan of a lot of breakfast foods, I like oatmeal. Most of those recipes are based off of a formula of one part oatmeal to one part water to one part milk. Guys, its wrong. As much as I can dress up a bowl of oatmeal with just about anything, (Lime wedges? Sure! PB&J? Delicious! Mascarpone cheese? Mercy.), the underlying bowl of oats should taste good on its own. Unfortunately, the one to one to one ratio just ends up with goop. Thick, rib-sticking, hearty, but goop, nonetheless.
I have a thing about buying ingredients I don't regularly use. When I'm reading through a new recipe, if it calls for an ingredient I don't normally have on hand, or regularly buy, I usually skip it. It has to sound really, really good for me to buy something I may not be able to use up. For some reason, one ingredient I've held off on buying for a long time was whole wheat pastry flour. A recipe that called for it was immediately glossed over. I bookmarked a few, just in case, but mostly I just moved on.
Making stock always seemed to me to be one of those things that people did when they had an abundance of time, a greater abundance of skill, and a certain touch of fussiness to their cooking preferences. The first time I made it myself, I was shocked how easy making stock really was. It came out watery and a bit weaker than I expected, but I had made it all by myself, using things I would normally have thrown away. I've learned, since that time, how to make the stock rich and full of flavor.
She liked the yellow peeps, mostly, because yellow didn't seem as garish a color to put in your body as magenta or electric blue. Violet had cut a slit in the thin plastic wrapping around their box and let them sit on the counter for a few weeks. She stared at them now, willing herself to wait. They were her Easter morning tradition, having just one before church, after her usual breakfast of eggs and toast. Violet couldn't stand them fresh, all spongy and odd textured, but once they had sat open, aged a bit, their texture became like nougat and that, that she loved.
She was exhausted. Madeline had just gotten off a 12 hour shift, and she had another one starting at 8 am the next day, and all she wanted to do was kick off her shoes, grab some popcorn, and veg on the couch and watch a movie. Instead, she started chopping tomatoes for a salad. Her parents were coming for dinner tonight, staying the night on the way to her mother’s work conference another days drive further on.
Jonathan begins kindergarten on Tuesday. It seems crazy, that it's come this soon, that this is the last weekend that won't be sandwiched between school weeks. He's ready, I think, since he can read and write, knows some geography, math, and is learning to spell. He's ready to soak in what he can, and quick.