Finding Joy in Snarkville

I know many of you are a twitter to know what I made in so many hours of cooking.  Well, let’s start with last night we had oven fried chicken and roasted veggies.  Yes, I’m a little proud of myself.

Now, you have to know that problems in the kitchen aren’t a lack of real skills.  I can whip up a beef wellington rather impressively.  The dishes I cook, I’m rather good at; and when inspired (like cooking for company or a party) I try out new things with rather few bombs.  That said, my problem is a one of desire — more like the daily grind.  So, I tend to rely on the path of least resistance for dinner — thus shocking someone in my knitting group when I said, “I don’t buy fresh vegetables, I’d have no idea what to do with them.”  That’s only half true — I *KNOW* what to do with them, I just could bring myself to do it everyday of the week.  I have other things I desire more, like becoming one with my recliner and knitting.

Back to what did I cook.  It seems that the key to this plan is to make at least TWO dinners worth of each meal.  Thus I cooked 5 meals and have 10 dinners.  (We don’t need to cook for the family 2 nights per week, so this is how it works out to 2 weeks of food.)  Now there’s a school of thought of everytime you cook, you double the recipe and freeze the other one — which sounds good, but seems to take awhile to build up to the no cooking part.  I know that nothing will last in the freezer forever (3 months seems to be the limit), so I like the idea of challenging ourselves to eat through one cooking session before beginning the next.  Finally, I read a suggestion of not making too many servings of an untried dish — good idea, except I’m new and all the dishes are untried.  Thus, I made myself a promise, every new dish I make, I shall only make two.  If it horrible and no one will eat it, it doesn’t cost us that much to just throw out the second one (or find it a loving home amoungst my friends in less picky households).  If we love it, then we already have another waiting.

So on to what I made:

1. Chicken Cacciatore:  This is a wild card to me.  A tomato based baked chicken dish.  It could be good, but I fear it may be “Meh” and never to be made again.  I will note that the dish size recommended in the recipe was HALF the size it should have been.
2. Coq au Vin: Yup, chicken in wine.  I’ve made this (not this recipe) before and enjoyed my purple chicken.  This smelled amazing coming out of the oven and I can’t wait to eat it.  I do worry a touch over the fact it is a different shade of chicken — but I’m sure the flavor will be wonderful.
3. Chicken Burritos: The recipe says I could make 10, I made 12.  Not sure how that worked, but I kept going until I was out of chicken.  I’m no better at folding a burrito now than I was in the beginning, but it is on taste not pretty right?  Now this recipe is cool because all the burritos are indivdually wrapped allowing for making just a couple if needed.
4. Chicken-Vegetable Soup:  Yes, I made soup.  Now this is the first time I’ve made soup and I always thought it would be harder than it was.  In looking at the outcome, I’ve got to say this is more like chicken stew in that it is thick and rich and full of STUFF and less liquid.  I’m ok with that — it is getting cooler here, and I see soup with crusty bread in our future.
5. Chicken Potpie:  Now this is the only recipe that has prep the day of serving, but it isn’t much prep and the filling was SO yummy going together (and easy — seriously easy)
6. Finally there was the oven fried chicken for dinner last night.  The verdict on dinner one was “YUMMY”  It was good and I think having a success in the first meal looks good for this plan.

We are already starting to talk about the next time and what to make.  I need to add a few things along the way, but I’m really excited about it — especially now that I can move my arms again.

I missed the class in girlhood where I was supposed to be able to pull together dinner on a nightly basis without wanting to pluck my own eyeballs out with a spoon (perhaps a slotted spoon).  As the Queen Mum says, there is not an instrument created that can measure how little I care about what we have for dinner.  Truly, if it were up to me (and I didn’t have two boys who’d complain) I’d be happy to eat cereal for dinner most nights.  Alas, since Prince thinks his dinner skills are limited to boiling water or microwaving something, I was elected to make dinner.

But, ladies (or chef in your house), you know that ‘making dinner’ is never as simple as ‘making dinner.’  Let’s be honest, it is planning dinner, shopping for dinner, prepping dinner, making dinner, cleaning up the kitchen, setting the table, serving dinner, loading the dishwasher, unloading the dishwasher, cussing….maybe that last one is just me.  But for some of us, who have no talent for turning loaves and fishes into a meal, we lather, rinse and repeat this every single night.  After way too many years of this, I have gone on strike.

I no longer want to keep doing something I started out disliking and ultimately have come to hate.  I do not want to make dinner ever again.  But again, I fear that the demanding people in my house will not handle the cereal dinner or you make it yourself plan.  Until I can teach Duke to cook dinner for me, I’ve been forced to find another plan.

After a wee bit of search on the net (oh, interwebs, how I love thee) I’ve found that there are other people out there who are like me.  They too hate to open a cabinet and produce dinner.  They too seem to have demanding people in their house who like eating and thus, they have begun a trend of ‘Cooking Once a Month.’

At first the thought of standing in my kitchen all day from morning until dusk cooking was like trying to imagine water torture or bamboo shoots under my nails.  I could not wrap my head around it — until I heard that magical phrase, ‘the rest of the month is ‘THAW and REHEAT”  Wait, no 30 minutes of prep daily after I spend a  day in the kitchen?  Why, no, why do you ask?  Well, I’d tried the Dream Dinners concept where you prep your food ahead, but you still have to cook it — which was often a multi-step process of dinner making.  The good thing was that at least the meal was chosen.

Well, in my research, I found a step-by-step manual in cooking this way for 2 weeks worth of chicken.  In theory this plan was designed for finding chicken REALLY on sale.  But I wanted to give it a try to see if I could actually do it and if this would work for us.  And yes, I’m aware of the fact, we will be eating a ton of chicken for the next two weeks.

Yesterday, I went grocery shopping.  I had a big list, but with careful shopping I spent less than my normal weekly shopping on what should be about 2 weeks of meals.  I’m excited as I lay everything out last night and note that I’ve bought good for us things I’ve never bought before — like 5 pounds a fresh carrots or fresh veggies at all.  I had 26 POUNDS of chicken in the fridge ready for a big day of cooking.

This morning I woke made coffee and breakfast.  I took a good shower and even put on my tennis shoes for my day at the stove.  I kicked the boys out for a day of fun while I cooked.  I cooked solidly from 10am to 4pm.  While one dish was being made, I prepped the next.  I made my own chicken stock that I turned into soup, I roasted chicken and turned it into burritos, I baked 4 dishes in my oven at once.  I made notes, know what I’d change if I do this set of recipes again — but mostly, I’m sure with some tweeking, I’ve found my answer.

I loved this big cook and while I’m truly bone deep tired, I’m thrilled to know that my freezer and fridge are stuffed with good foods.  I don’t know if we will love all the recipes as none of them are tried and true for us…but it was a proof of concept and a start.  Now I know this is getting long, but I wanted to share a few things I learned today:

1. I don’t mind cutting up large amounts of veggies if I can do it all at once.
2. I need bigger pots.  (In prep, for today, I bought an 8 qt and a 12 qt stock pot.)  But I need to look into larger skillet and saucepans.
3. I have two large sets of large bowls — and I used all of them at the same time.  I know I was shocked too.
4. I need to figure out freezer storage solutions.  Still working on that.
5. An empty dishwasher AND a sink of warm soapy water keeps me sane.  I ran the dishwasher only once WHILE cooking and it is running now for the second time.  Otherwise I handwashed the pots and such as I used them — this really means that other than the fact I’m too tired to put all the stuff away, my kitchen is as clean now as it was when I began.
6. My hands are SO dry from the hot soapy water.
7. Despite careful planning and large amounts of chicken later — I have two leftover chicken breasts that I did not use.  I’ve bagged them and frozen them for next time — but I’ve not a clue what I’m going to do with them.

Now to plan a few meals that have beef, just to stop us all from clucking.  Also, wondering how to tell Prince (who I’ve already told not to buy me anything for Christmas) that I think we NEED a freezer.

(More from the lost posts series)

Last night, I had the delight of going to the local elementary school to review the materials that will be presented to our children in what passes for “Human Interaction” — or you’ll remember it called “Sex Ed.”  Oh, but we’ve progressed so far and now we add to the fun of teaching our children about their changing bodies their roles in a society and global something or other.  Frankly, my eyes glazed over about the time I realized that I was going to sit through the FOURTH grade films with a room full of my equally embarrassed parents.

Before I go forward, I have to say that I was stunned in the turn out of the review.  When there was back to school night the largest room in the school was standing room only to listen to how the PTA raises money by selling wrapping paper no one needs.  But when we actually get to discuss, review and try to decide if we think this is truly age appropiate, the presentation was for TWO schools and held in the library (which has three tables and 14 chairs).  When I walked in I asked the school nurse if she was expecting a huge crowd and she giggled and said, “I’d be shocked if all these chairs are full.”

Now, I get that the information doesn’t change, so you can eliminate anyone who has older kids and aren’t new to the district.  However, I was the ONLY kindergarten parent there.  Let me let that sink in a moment.  I know I’m not the only parent whose oldest kid is new to the school this year, but I was the only parent there from Duke’s grade.  I’m glad to know we all have our priorities straight.

Back to the evening.  Now remember the audience of this meeting, apparently they are the only parents who would consider not giving their permission to this course of study in our schools.  The vast majority were concerned about the details, the information passed and the context given.  Basically, they are in the group of “there’s biology and that’s fine, but you can’t talk about the rest without talking morality and what morality are you sharing?”  This was a refreshing group.  There was the small group of people who were “Don’t you dare talk to my children about this and I want to argue crowd.”  And finally there was the group who just wanted to know what was coming for their kids’ grade so they could ‘pre-teach’ it. This was slightly refreshing — to see parents who care about and are involved in what their kids are taught.

Then out of the blue, the school nurse (who frankly missed her calling as a warden in a women’s prison) says, who wants to see the movie we show the 4th graders?  Oh sure, that was going to be fun.  The movie is called “Just around the Corner” and there is a version for boys and a girls (we saw both).  The movies were slightly better production value but seriously they are horrible.  Horrible in the since that they were boring, trite, and not at all interesting.  I can only imagine that half the class is sound asleep by the end of the movie.

So, I was forced to wonder why has sex-ed not gotten any better in the modern day.  Seriously, how hard is it to make a film about BIOLOGY and not make is a giggle fest as they dance around the actual biology in an effort to remind us every ten seconds, “If you have any questions, talk to an adult.”

One dad wanted to know why his 4th grade daughter was going to be told that her body was built to carry a baby.  I was a little stunned by that one.  But the thing that I found most disturbing is that I sat through 2 films and looked through the materials and not once was I told what the other stuff they were gong to teach the kids.  Again, there’s the biology and there’s the other stuff — am I alone in thinking it is the “other stuff” that is more controversal?

Yes, I’m looking for someone to blame.  It appears that since turning 35 in September, I’m falling apart.

Yesterday, I am pretty sure I broke toe.  Not my big toe, but the one next to it.  And you want to know what highly difficult move I was doing when I think I broke my toe?

WALKING.  Yup, I stumbled when I was walking (over some random cords on the floor) and I tripped a little.

Poise and grace I tell you.  Just full of Poise and Grace.

(Now off to decide if I really need to *DO* anything about my probably broken toe.)

Do not read this if you are easily grossed out.  You have been warned.

There’s been an effort for a few years to celebrate love on Thursdays in the blog world.  It is such a nice thought since love is rarely the funny things that happen in our lives and blogs are far better when written about the angst and stupidity of normal life.  In fact, we can tend to turn our backs on the blogs where the life described is too perfect or too delightful.  But one day, a single day isn’t too much to remember that really the best parts of life are the love parts.

I don’t tend to write the weekly missive on love.  Mostly because I’ve become horrible at writing daily; but also because it is so easy to bog yourself down with the problems of daily life and wonder where the happy went.  So, when something truly amazing happens, I feel it must be shared.

Last Saturday, Prince and I were on a plane returning home from our vacation.  I settled into my seat to watch many, many movies.  I was as comfortable as I could get and dozed a little.  When I was served lunch, the flight attendant spilled my glass of white wine on me.  Fortunately, I had a blanket on me and that had most of the spill.

Later in the flight, I woke up for a doze with a headache.  Oh my the pain.  I thought it was the beginnings of a migraine, but wasn’t sure (it is called denial).  I got up and washed my face.  A quick look in the mirror and I was a new level of pale (the lack of lips was a bit scary).  I wandered back to my seat and looked at the time, 3 hours left in the flight.  Ok, I can make it, I think.  Quickly, I figured out that I felt better if I was leaning forward in my seat with pressure on my eyeballs.  Oh, yes, did I mention that my eyeballs felt like they were trying to escape?

Prince thought I might be hungry.  I thought I was lacking caffine, since I had not had my normal coffee that morning.  I sat and waited and hoped my head would not explode before we landed.  I wanted to cry with the pain, but seriously the very thought of a sniffle made me weak with pain.

The flight crew was amazing, they offered me some Tylenol.  About 45 minutes before the flight ended, I got the coldest cloth I’ve ever felt and boy did that help.  At that point I knew I had a migraine, I also knew that I had the stomach upset too.  In a moment of rare clarity, I grabbed the air sick bag from the back of the seat in front me and made it easier to grab.

We start to descend.  I hope that I can hold it together until the plane is on the ground.  I’m the type of person who hates to throw up.  I will lay still for days in an effort to keep it at bay.  I got to thinking about the last time I was sick.  I could not remember it.

We descended more, I grabbed the bag and proceeded to throw up.  When the retching slowed, Prince asked me quietly, “you ok?” “No. I need another bag.” He grabbed his air sick bag and took my full one while I continued.

By the time we were on the ground, I was done.  I was also in great need of getting rid of two bags of barf (remember I warned you).  At that point, I looked at my husband.  He sat there, a wee bit green around the gills, holding a bag of my puke.  He didn’t shutter or try to hand it back to me (it’s yours; YOU hold it).  He pushed the call button, tried to keep me calm, and told me it would all be ok.

That’s when I stopped.  I stopped and looked at him and realized that love is lots of pretty poems and beautiful flowers.  It can be love songs and dancing in the park.  It can be trips around the world and so much more.  But that kind of love is easy.  That’s the sunny day kind of love.  The love that is simple because it is easy to be happy when the world around you is happy.

Then there’s the hard side of love.  The side of love that is when you are bone tired, dreaming of being home in your own bed.  The part of love where you do the unthinkable — you spend 45 minutes holding the puke of your spouse without complaint.

Thanks Prince.  I love you too — next time I’ll try to say it with flowers, ok?

Yes, I mean it.  I am proposing that all time zones be instantly abolished right now.  Yes, I realize that this means that the work day will be in the dark for half of the Earth, but seriously, haven’t we advanced enough to allow those people (because of course, I’d keep the US — the center of the known universe — on its current daylight/nighttime schedule) to have lightbulbs and blackout shades.

The sole reason for doing this of course would be so that I might return from the OTHER.SIDE.OF.THE.EARTH. without spending 4+ days waking up in the middle of night and drooling from lack of decent sleep.  Oh yes, it is all about me, why do you even ask at this point?

Back to reality and less about my sleepless dream world.  I have returned from the amazing trip.  There are few times I can say that this was a trip of a lifetime, but this in fact was.  In case you are not in the know, we were on the QE2 for her LAST trip around the British Isles.  We went to Ireland, England, Northern Ireland, and Scotland in that order.  At every port call there were thousands of people meeting the ship and even more to see her leave.  (There were about 60,000 in Greenock, the port town for Glasgow, alone.  Greenock is on the River Clyde where she was built and the QE2 was the LAST Scottish built ship.)  I quickly began to believe that the crowds were there to see me (I am the Queen of Snarkville afterall) and thus this trip has ruined me for all travels unless there will be grand welcomes, photographers, interviews, and well, fireworks.  I’m nothing if not realistic.

I have so much to share about the trip.  So many things about how I was the picture of poise and grace (hold on, I’m choking on something). So many photos that we took.  So many experiences that blow me away and the tears I cried as we departed.  We will get there, but lest this post take years to read, I’m forced to break it up a wee bit.

What I will tell you is that the QE2 is old, in ship years.  She was built at a time of multi-class travel.  There are stairs and lifts that don’t seem to go to the same places and she isn’t easy to get around.  She is, thankfully, smaller than the newer ships, so her odd stairs were easier to learn over time.  I want to say she has smaller cabins, but our cabin was rather large, though oddly laid out.  She did offer the last true single cabins on the seas — and those were, um….TINY.  She was unique in so many ways and they will never build a ship like her again (thankfully in some ways and sadly in others).  But I was there.  She has two more cruises left — one from NYC to Southampton and then from Southampton to Dubai where she will become a 5 star hotel.

Many onbaord spoke of visiting her again in Dubai, which is a lovely thought — I think.  But of all the places in the world I have on my list to go, Dubai isn’t all that high, so I’m glad I saw and sailed her in her natural habiat.

But today, I’m back to real life.  Real life that includes laundry and dishes and dinner and such.  Yet, I’ve begun to think about it.  My daily life isn’t so different than my life on a cruise ship.

Every night on board the ship, the cabin steward leaves a chocolate on my pillow.  Every night at home, a cat leaves a hair ball on the floor by my bed.