Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts

Monday, June 2, 2014

dinner for two

Over and over I hear, "it's so hard cooking for two! I have so many leftovers." I will admit, going from six around our table down to two required some adjustment. But honestly? I find cooking for two a breeze.

Our first three children are boys. Ravenous boys. Well that's redundant, aren't all boys ravenous? I remember one night after dinner, our son Dan left the table and walked - I'm not kidding - straight to the pantry, opened it and stared in. "I'm hungry!" he declared. With appetites like that and grocery bills to match, our simple meals feel almost like vacation.

Leftovers? We adore them. When all the kids were home, I couldn't make enough food for leftovers to save my life. No matter the quantity, they ate it. All of it.

These days, a lasagna lasts for three meals. Crock pot chicken the same. Just a bit of meat left? No problem, just throw it on a salad and we're set. Our son Mark's opinion of salad was "it tastes like dirt." Boys prefer man food, I suppose.

Tonight we're having penne pasta salad. I took some to a friend for lunch, but it'll still last a couple of days. What's not to like about "pulling cold meat/salad" from the fridge, as Julia Child used to chirp!

And then there's laundry. Many times it seems I'm neglecting it because I do it so infrequently. But no. We have two loads a week, or three with towels and sheets. It's weird, I tell you.

I know so well that keeping a family fed and clothed can feel overwhelming and unrelenting. But take heart, young moms. One day your work load will decrease. But so will the slamming doors, yelling kids, and liveliness that only children can provide.

There's a season for everything, and without fail, seasons change.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

nifty, thrifty: homemade iced coffee

It amazes me what some people must spend on life's little pleasures. As we've put four kids through college, I've become even more frugal than ever. Take chilled coffees, for instance. I used to sneak sips of my mother's iced coffee when I was a girl. She made hers from leftover morning coffee. Forty years later, you can drop what, $4 or so for a latte or iced capuccino or whatnot. If you bought 3 or 4 of those a week, that's a wad of cash.

So here's my thrifty recipe: homemade iced coffee. For fun, I saved a Panera cup from when Katie and I went there for lunch a few weeks ago. I wash and reuse it so it seems like I've gone to Panera for a fancy drink!

Barb's Iced Coffee

Fill a glass or cup half full with strong, cold coffee OR place a heaping teaspoon of instant coffee in the cup and about an inch of hot water. If you want it sweet, add sugar now and stir til dissolved. Add lots of ice (and some cold water if using instant coffee), almost to the top. Then fill with plenty of milk and/or half and half. Stir and enjoy. Put in your travel cup if you're leaving on errands. Especially good at your desk in the mid-afternoon!

How do you save money?

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

the grinder

From the time I could peer over the edge of the kitchen counter, I'd watch Mom grind with this grinder, tomato juice dripping onto newspapers spread on the floor. This little beauty has been in my kitchen for over 30 years. And it was in my mother's kitchen for almost 30 years, too.

I only saw Mom use it for grinding two things: green tomatoes and ham. She ground green tomatoes and onions in the summertime for tomato relish, which my dad and older brother absolutely loved on black-eyed peas.

Then, after Christmas or Easter, the leftover ham was ground up for ham salad. And honestly, that's the sole reason I hang onto the grinder. We like a little ham salad now and then.

I don't know if the grinder was handed down from my grandmother or perhaps was a wedding gift to Mom in 1950. While it's a bit clunky to pull out and clamp onto the counter, there's something comforting and loving about using it as my mother did many years ago, my hand grasping the wooden handle, smooth from decades of use.

I might not have a huge Kitchen Aid mixer or other trendy gadgets, but somehow my kitchen seems complete.