Not A Cook's Kitchen

That was a line I recently read in a book and it immediately brought to mind my little area of food paradise. Would one refer to it as "Not a cook's kitchen"? There is nothing so energizing about cleaning a kitchen as pointing a camera into its dark places. A critical eye will notice I do not have any gadgets. Except a microwave. My stove is old and on its last leg. This is so disappointing because six months prior to leaving FW I bought a new gas stove. I prefer to cook on/with gas. Even though there is always the chance of asphyxiation from loosely connected lines. (I knew I kept catching a whiff of gas every so often in the house, but Joe told me I was just imagining things!)

My stove is not so bad if it is put beside the winner of the Food Channel Chicken Cook-off. I knew she was going to win when they showed her stirring the pot in her tiny space on her lopsided stove in Bloomington, Indiana. Besides the Hoosier bit, anyone that can balance a skillet on a appliance that gives the impression that an earthquake in happening right outside her window is a real champ.

I am cooking a pot of sauce/gravy for a spaghetti lasagna. My Sis is having a bit of a


crisis in her husbands family and I thought it would be the least I could do to help her out. And, my daughter is staying with me, maybe only tonight, as she has her wisdom teeth extracted today and the Doc said she could have spaghetti.

I am very happy when in the kitchen. I hate to clean up, but that is why God gave us dishwashers. I use to resist a dishwasher thinking it was a flagrant waste of precious water. But, after spending a Spring break in a condo being the maid for three people, including two teenagers(!) I broke and feel in love. Not only does it wash the dishes, it is a good place to hide them, unlike the sink where the pile up smacks of slovenly and lazy behavior.



What do you think determines a Cooks Kitchen? Duel stoves, a warming oven, two refrigerators, expensive appliances? Or, a well stocked pantry? (I could not believe that I did not have spaghetti in my cupboard, two boxes of linguine, two boxes of lasagna noodles and a box of macaroni was it. Finally, about 50 stands of angel hair! Help!!)


Once I was requested to bring a casserole to a family dinner. I did not manager my time and found myself aghast as I frantically clawed through my freezer to discover I did not have the required boxes of spinach for my famous souffle!! With an act of genius inspired with no time to make a trip to the grocery store, I whipped together a now much praised and copied Spanish green bean casserole. I may post it here someday...someday I remember all the ingredients again!

My Mother tells me that is the way her Mother was. She would fling a handful of this and a pinch of that and could never tell you, never be able to give you the correct amounts that made that soda bread. That rhubarb pie.

I hate that pie and always thought my Mom was mistaken about my Grandmothers abilities in the kitchen.

After all that cooking, it's nice to look out the window as rinsing the dishes for the washer. Poor roses, only buds escape the Jap Beetles these days.