Friday Food: Hot Weather Food

It's been ninety degrees or above for most of the week. That is why leftovers have featured heavily this week. Because we do not have air conditioning, and I do not want to be cooking big meals when it's 85 degrees in my kitchen.

Friday

Short version: Shepherd's pie, raw produce

Long version: I had a lot of whipped potatoes left I had made a few days before, so I decided to use them to top a shepherd's pie. Of course, by the time I made the meat mixture for a 9"x13" pan, I needed more potatoes than I had. So I added instant potato flakes, along with a bunch more milk, butter, and sour cream, to bulk up the potatoes I already had.

That worked well.

Saturday

Short version: Leftovers, bread and butter

Long version: Some leftover shepherd's pie, some leftover lamb steak, plus bread and butter and more raw produce to finish it all off.

Sunday

Short version: Pork, baked beans, boiled potatoes, green salad with vinaigrette, strawberry/rhubarb pie with vanilla ice cream

Long version: We had guests with us for dinner this night, and I knew it was going to be 90 degrees in the afternoon. For that reason, I cooked everything ahead of time. I made the baked beans--using a couple of containers of cooked and frozen pinto beans--the pie, and some garlic bread the day before. I also cooked a pork shoulder in the morning.

And then an hour before the guests came I got a text that one of them is avoiding gluten.

Okay, that's a no on the garlic bread, then.

That's why I was boiling a pot of potatoes at four o'clock. So much for not heating the kitchen.

It wasn't too bad, actually. I also shredded and fried the pork in its own rendered fat on my big grill pan, but even still, it was only about 80 degrees inside when we sat down to eat. Bearable.

The pie had what is probably the last of this year's rhubarb in it. It was very good.

Slightly less ugly than my last lattice-topped pie, too. 

There is, obviously, gluten in that pie, but thankfully our guest doesn't actually have an allergy to gluten or anything, he just didn't want to eat too much of it. He couldn't resist trying the pie, though.

Who could, really?

Monday

Short version: Leftovers

Long version: A. had the last of the lamb steak and some of the leftover boiled potatoes. The children had leftover pork and potatoes fried together, plus some of the leftover carrot and kohlrabi sticks that I had set out as appetizers the night before.

Tuesday

Short version: Lamb chops, garlic bread, raw produce

Long version: This was the garlic bread we didn't have on Sunday. I just heated it up in the microwave to keep it soft. 

The raw produce we've been having has been either bell peppers, radishes, or cucumbers, depending on preferences and what needs to be used first.

We had hosted a tea party earlier this day for a couple of Poppy's friends, which of course featured scones.

It's not a tea party at our house without scones.

Wednesday

Short version: Pork sandwiches, leftover lamb chops and potatoes, raw produce

Long version: I had forgotten I had some pork left, which I discovered when I was pulling out the last of the potatoes for A. So I started slicing the pork, thinking I would fry it in the skillet on the stove to heat it up. But then the child in the kitchen with me remarked that it looked like it would be good for sandwiches.

Indeed it would. So that is what the children had. Some had it with barbecue sauce, one chose pickles and mayonnaise, another had mayonnaise, mustard, and lettuce. 

A. had the last of the lamb chops and potatoes.

Thursday

Short version: Hot dogs, coleslaw, coconut water

Long version: I had bought these hot dogs when we were in the city to go the dentist last week. I left them this day for A. to cook, because I was in a different city at a therapy appointment with a child. I also made the coleslaw in the morning.

And then I got home just after 6 p.m. to the children informing me they had not been fed, and A. countering that he asked several times if they wanted to eat and they kept saying no.

I guess they were just waiting for me. Touching.

So I fried the hot dogs and put them in buns.

The coconut water came from actual coconuts. Poppy had been asking me about coconuts, and I told her that we used to eat fresh coconuts when we lived in Hawaii. I promised her if I ever saw a fresh coconut, I would buy one for her. 

And then, there they were at the grocery store.

I bought two. A. drilled holes in them so we could drain out the coconut water, which the children drank. And then I completely failed to get the coconut flesh out. I had no memory of how we did this when I was seven years old, so I looked for tips online.

My options were freezing it or baking it. I was not going to be turning on my oven to 400 degrees, so I went with freezing and told the kids we'd have coconut for breakfast in the morning.

Refrigerator check:

You can tell I've been to the store a lot lately, can't you?

Okay, your turn! What'd you eat this week?

On Having Prey Instincts

When we moved to our house on the Canadian border in the far north of New York State, we were essentially living in the middle of a forest. It was quite possible to walk across the road from our house into the woods and not come to another road, habitation, or any other sign of civilization for many miles. 

It took me awhile after we moved there to figure out why I always went to the right when I went for a run: If I went to the left, I was hemmed in by forest on both sides of the road for miles. I felt like anything could come out of those woods--human or animal--and I really did not like that feeling. I couldn't see what might be there. 

So I always ran the other way, which meant I was going past our neighbor's dairy farm. Much more open. I could see.

I think it was A. who said I was reacting as a prey animal might. They always want to be somewhere where they can see danger approaching. It was funny to think of it like that, but I think he was right.

That's why I feel so comfortable here, I suppose. I can see for literally miles. Everything is open. There are very few trees. The land is mostly flat; the air is clear; the sun is almost always shining. Maximum visibility.

If there was a bear within five miles, I would see it.

I probably shouldn't analyze this too much, but ever since I realized that I react to my environment as a prey animal might, things make much more sense to me.

Do you like the wide-open spaces, or do you prefer to have trees around you?

Snapshots: Beneath These Western Skies

I had as sad coffee situation this week, since I use a French press to make my coffee and I broke the glass insert while I was washing it.

Boo.

I ordered another, but while I was waiting for it, I had this rather elaborate set-up with a jar, a funnel, a strainer, and a coffee filter.

Way too much to keep track of first thing in the morning.

Thankfully, my replacement glass thing arrived on Friday, so I only had to do all of that for a few mornings.

Speaking of things that work again . . .

My shiny new Honda has not only a working radio--the old Honda had no stereo component that still worked at all--but a functioning CD player.

I realize CDs are hopelessly outdated and everyone uses their phones or something now. I still have a lot of CDs, though, and haven't had anywhere to play them since the CD player in the van stopped working five years ago*.

But now I have a CD player, which is really, really nice on the very long drives I often have to take.

One of the CDs I've been listening to is Chris LeDoux's greatest hits. The last song on it--and my favorite--is "Western Skies."

I always appreciate the appropriateness of this song, as this is usually what I'm looking at as I drive:

Western skies, indeed.

This week's big entertainment was a rather elaborate ship game that included a sail with the name of the ship painted on it.

It's hard to see the name if the wind isn't right. It's The Dying Falcon.

I had to ask why they went with The Dying Falcon. Because there have been too many Flying ones, apparently. I guess that was in reference to The Flying Dutchmen? Who knows.

There you have it! My life, snapshotted.

* Well, it technically still works, it's just that one CD has been stuck in it all this time. Given our location, that means that our options for the last five years have been either the one radio station that comes in sometimes, or Billy Joel. That's a lot of repetitions of "We Didn't Start the Fire."