Zoot is talking about her kitchen today, and there is little I like more than talking about my kitchen. Well, not the actual room, but the accoutrements I have for it, the accoutrements I want for it and the extra room I wish we could build onto the house so I didn’t have to keep my blender and vegetable steamer and bread pans and muffin tins in the laundry room and my big slow cooker and stand-up mixer in the coat closet and my pretty mixing bowls and another slow cooker and canned goods and my favorite casserole dish and some cookbooks IN THE GARAGE (!!!the garage!!!).
See, I used to be a foodie. You know, before I became a high-powered, driven career woman, and when I had a big kitchen with floor-to-ceiling built-in shelving and a pantry that was enormous (oh, who am I kidding, even then my slow cooker was kept in the garage), and most importantly, when I was childless.
I subscribe to two cooking magazines (still, though they mainly sit on my nightstand for 6 months). I have expensive, obscure spices like saffron and cardamom on my spice shelf (one entire shelf in my smaller pantry). I own soup tureens and a mini-muffin pan and a Bundt pan and a potato ricer.
Dave once told me I was not allowed to ask for kitchen stuff for Christmas/birthday gifts anymore. But I don’t think some new, non-slotted serving spoons really count. They don’t take up that much room.
I would spend hours preparing new and exciting dinners, always healthy and almost always delicious. I loved shopping at the gourmet grocery. I tried to bake, but, other than my world-famous chocolate chip cookies and some decent strawberry cream cheese muffins, I’m just not that good at it.
Last Sunday, after I had cleaned the bathrooms and in between loads of laundry, I spent R’s two-hour nap cooking me up some beef carnitas to have later this week. As the hours stretched before me and I chopped and seasoned and simmered, it was almost like the old days. Of course, I didn’t have a glass of wine at the ready and I knew my reverie would shortly be interrupted by a request to play Barbies or watch Dora.
I do miss using all my fancy kitchen stuff. I have a contraption that is supposed to allow you to cut your fresh-baked bread into uniform slices, but I can’t tell you the last time I baked fresh bread. But I guess the trade-off is worth it!