In case of emergency, bake cake
We had a potluck at work on Friday. I found out about it late Thursday night, so I got up an hour early on Friday morning and baked an apple cake. I pulled the cake out of the oven right before I had to leave for work, so it was still warm when I arrived.
What surprised me was that people couldn't believe I had made the cake that morning, with ingredients I had on hand. What they don't understand is that I am my mother's daughter. You cook from scratch. Brownies from a box are evil, and nothing says love like homemade fried chicken. I come from stock that requires you to keep 27 cans of tuna fish in the house, just in case you need to make a vat of tuna salad for a church dinner. Ingredients for chocolate chip cookies should be on hand at all times, just in case there is a birth, death, natural disaster, full moon, high tide, or a good movie on t.v. Mom, if you are reading this, go count your cans of tuna. If you have less than 10 in the cupboard, I AM SO DISAPPOINTED IN YOU. I have 6 cans right now, plus 6 cans of salmon. Lent starts in less than two weeks; I am so ready for the pre-service meals. You feel like turkey? I have three in the freezer, along with enough tamales to last us into the next new year. Bread? I have three loaves at my fingertips. I have enough butter, sugar, and flour to bake cakes for every special occasion for the next six months. If you want an ethnic meal, I could probably reach into the cupboard and make cajun, Italian, Asian, or Mexican, from scratch. There never has, nor will there ever be a Hamburger Helper in my cupboard.
What I need to start doing NOW, is what I discovered about my mother three years ago. I was home visiting and I opened her freezer. She had pre-packaged dinners in there. Frozen. Meals. Prepared. Food. Food that was cooked by a machine and then flash frozen and shipped to a grocery store. My brain could not comprehend. Before I could even start to screech, she looked over my shoulder and calmly said, "Baby girl, I have been married for 33 years. I'm tired."
If it means I get an extra hour of sleep, I'm bringing brownies from the box to the next potluck. I won't tell if you won't.
What surprised me was that people couldn't believe I had made the cake that morning, with ingredients I had on hand. What they don't understand is that I am my mother's daughter. You cook from scratch. Brownies from a box are evil, and nothing says love like homemade fried chicken. I come from stock that requires you to keep 27 cans of tuna fish in the house, just in case you need to make a vat of tuna salad for a church dinner. Ingredients for chocolate chip cookies should be on hand at all times, just in case there is a birth, death, natural disaster, full moon, high tide, or a good movie on t.v. Mom, if you are reading this, go count your cans of tuna. If you have less than 10 in the cupboard, I AM SO DISAPPOINTED IN YOU. I have 6 cans right now, plus 6 cans of salmon. Lent starts in less than two weeks; I am so ready for the pre-service meals. You feel like turkey? I have three in the freezer, along with enough tamales to last us into the next new year. Bread? I have three loaves at my fingertips. I have enough butter, sugar, and flour to bake cakes for every special occasion for the next six months. If you want an ethnic meal, I could probably reach into the cupboard and make cajun, Italian, Asian, or Mexican, from scratch. There never has, nor will there ever be a Hamburger Helper in my cupboard.
What I need to start doing NOW, is what I discovered about my mother three years ago. I was home visiting and I opened her freezer. She had pre-packaged dinners in there. Frozen. Meals. Prepared. Food. Food that was cooked by a machine and then flash frozen and shipped to a grocery store. My brain could not comprehend. Before I could even start to screech, she looked over my shoulder and calmly said, "Baby girl, I have been married for 33 years. I'm tired."
If it means I get an extra hour of sleep, I'm bringing brownies from the box to the next potluck. I won't tell if you won't.
posted by pastorschick at
6:53 PM
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