So, um I'm wondering if I shouldn't just do a cooking blog. Because that is what I seem to want to write about. A lot of times cooking sort of seeps into my daily life- well, what I cook or how it comes out is a reflection of my daily life.
For example, today, we had fried green tomatoes for lunch. I never had those or made those before. They were good! The reason we had them is because Willy was taking apart his hydroponic garden in the basement and we had a bunch of tomatoes that started growing and then stopped a few weeks ago. They were big and green and firm and not turning red. Hmmm. Take two on the garden, I guess. Meanwhile, I thought, "I will try cooking fried green tomatoes." And I did. And they were pretty good. Different than I thought.
Also, today, I was making shish kebabs for dinner. They had cubes of lean beef and cubes of fresh pineapple. To serve with it, I made couscous and a mango salsa. Summery and delicious. However, I was too busy to properly babysit my kebabs on the grill and I overcooked them. The reason I was too busy to babysit them was because just before dinner I discovered mouse poop all over the under part of my kitchen (KITCHEN!) sink and I was busy scouring everything spotless so that there would be nothing "tempting" for mice in my kitchen tonight (gosh darn it)!
I live in the country where mice are a part of reality. I accept this reality reluctantly. I tolerate, TOLERATE, mice in the chicken coop or in the garage. I turn a blind eye to the mice in the unfinished basement laundry room. But in my KITCHEN? Never. Ever. Good God never. And heaven help the mouse who leaves a poop in my pantry or among my baby's toys.
Anyway, so I overcooked the kebabs. And my husband suggested that my efforts were perhaps misdirected. It would maybe be better to discover a way to, say, kill or deter said mice, than to simply clean. Because mice are here. And they aren't rats.
I need to remind myself of that. They aren't rats. We don't have rats.
And then I come to the part of my day when I update my list of stuff we ate tonight. And I realize that I have so much more to say than the little blurb that I write. Additionally, it would be fun to include pictures, and maybe, maybe recipes. Or at least ingredients.
I am not a recipe person. I approach cooking with a devil-may-care attitude even when it comes to baking, which can be a dangerous way to live at a high altitude. (But believe me, I don't bake cookies anymore. Unless they are supposed to be those thin, crispy lace cookies.) I am intimidated and truthfully annoyed, at the idea of having to write exact proportions down because frankly, I just don't cook that way.
Who does?
OK. I think a lot of people do.
And do I even have the time or energy to take pictures of my food?
But wouldn't it be fun?
My husband calls recipe pages with pictures Porn for Women.
I think he's right.
And maybe I should start my own porn site.
