Comeuppance

I knew better than to claim that I know how to cook. I’ve heard the adage, “Pride goeth before a fall.” Now I’ve had my comeuppance.

A couple of days ago I bought an eggplant, just because its purple skin was so shiny and unblemished. The only dish I’d ever made with eggplant was ratatouille, but this time I felt adventurous. I made a recipe called “Eggplant and roasted red pepper terrine.” All the ingredients were at hand – the eggplant, roasted red peppers in the freezer, fresh parsley, and brie cheese.

It was a labor of love, but love’s labors were lost. The terrine looked pretty, but it tasted terrible, even with the fresh tomato sauce. Here’s what remained after Dennis and I each took a serving.

I ate crow and we fed the terrine to the chickens, who found it to be quite to their taste. As least it didn’t go to waste.

Copyright 2014 by Shirley Domer

Aunties

Today I am remembering my “aunties.” Not my biological aunts or aunts by marriage, but older ladies who were our neighbors and friends of my mother and grandmother. “Mrs. Weight” was too formal for my relationship with her, but calling her Bertha would not have shown the proper respect. I didn’t invent this; my mother instructed me on the proper form of address.

These ladies mostly lived in the tiny town where I lived from age seven until I married. Bates City’s population was 103 that entire time, although it later dropped to 85. All of my aunties lived within a block of our house, with the exception of Aunt Pink, who lived in the country outside of town.

On clement afternoons it was the ladies’ custom to go visiting. Not every day, but a couple of times a week, a knock at the door about 2:00 P.M. announced the arrival of one auntie or another, who would sit with my grandmother in our living room and visit. I do not recall refreshments being served, although my memory may fail me on that point. Surely a glass of iced tea was offered on a hot summer afternoon.

I also saw my aunties at church, at school events, and at large social gatherings. They were as familiar to me as my own family and I knew I could always turn to them for help if needed. I will never forget Aunt Ida’s kindness when my mother was in the hospital. I was twelve, and it fell to me to prepare the evening meal. I prepared spaghetti with meat sauce. After we ate I became violently ill, perhaps from anxiety about my mother, perhaps from poorly prepared food. At any rate, Aunt Ida appeared at the door to see how we were getting along. She held my hand as I vomited. She tucked me into bed with a wet cloth on my brow. She became my substitute mother that evening and I was thankful for her kindness.

I was always welcome in the aunties’ homes. Sometimes I visited Aunt Mary to play checkers. Sometimes I delivered quarts of milk to aunties and stayed to visit. (My dad, a farmer, always kept a milk cow.) Sometimes I popped in to enjoy freshly baked cookies.

I was able to help the aunties, too. One morning I was visiting Aunt Ida when her husband was taken violently ill. Aunt Ida, who didn’t have a telephone, turned to me and said, “Run home and call the doctor.” When Aunt Bertha’s husband died, I sat beside her as she lay sobbing on the couch. I held her hand and talked to her about how he was now happy in heaven.

I was a lucky child to have so many loving aunties. The world has changed dramatically since then. I don’t know whether aunties still exist. I hope they do. I hope that today’s children enjoy the love and security that aunties provide.

Copyright 2014 by Shirley Domer

Happy Home

The winter dragon lashed his tail again. This dragon is more fierce than most and he packs quite a wallop. This time the forecasters predicted ice and sleet, followed by lots of snow. We fretted about the possibility of losing electricity, the worst thing that can happen in winter. My bones knew something was coming. My joints ached. Sharp unexpected pains took my breath away. I could barely stand to walk. 

Finally, after three days of my pain and the weather people's dire predictions, we got no ice, no sleet, and only about three inches of snow.

What did happen, though, was very depressing. The temperature dropped to 8º F in the day and to -8º F that night. Lethargy set in, both physically and emotionally. I didn’t accomplish anything and I didn’t care. It seemed that winter would never end.

The temperatures will moderate now, starting with today near 40º F.  My aches and pains have gone away. I’m elated and feel energy returning. This morning I decided to polish an old pie tin. I found it and its twin at a thrift shop years ago. They are small, measuring just eight inches from rim to rim.

I’ve made many pies for two in these tins. They cheer me and I treasure them for their endurance through the decades, for the pies they have held, and for the women whose hands created those pies.

It’s nice to have come back to life, happy at home.

Copyright 2014 by Shirley Domer

Another Winter Day

Another polar vortex is doing its nasty business here in Kansas. The temperature this morning was 8º F. and a skiff of snow covered the ground. I’ll confess it took me a long time to get up the courage to go outside to let the chickens out. By the time I went into their house to unhook their little door they had produced five eggs. With frigid fingers I picked them up and discovered to my delight that they were still quite warm. In my jacket pockets they served well as hand warmers as I made my way back to the people house.

That was fun, but the day stretched out before me. The trick, I think, to getting through winter with one’s sanity intact is to find something interesting to do every day. I decided to sew up napkins from a long-forgotten piece of linen that I unearthed the other day. Figuring out how many napkins of what size, measuring and cutting fabric, and making mitered corners was good exercise for my brain and I loved the patterns of the various napkins.

Next I decided to make some chocolate syrup. Boy, I am so glad I broke off my long relationship with Hershey’s chocolate syrup, because homemade syrup has Hershey’s beat all to pieces. What’s more it is very easy and quick to make. In case you, too, are facing another day stuck inside, here’s the recipe:

1 cup sugar

½ cup Ghirardelli’s unsweetened cocoa

¾ cup of water (or strong coffee if you like mocha)

dash of salt

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

In a 2-quart saucepan mix together the sugar, cocoa, and salt.  Add ¼ cup of water (or coffee) and stir until all the dry ingredients are moistened. Then stir in the remaining liquid.

Bring to a boil and boil for a couple of minutes, stirring all the time to keep the syrup from boiling over. Remove from the heat and stir in the vanilla.

Let the syrup cool. Spoon a little over a bowl of ice cream. Sit down with a good book and enjoy the rewards of your labor.

Now what? Maybe I’ll make some placemats to go with the napkins.

Copyright 2014 by Shirley Domer

Goodbye to an Old Friend

Hershey’s syrup and I have been close friends for decades. I’ve stirred it into countless glasses of cold milk and countless mugs of warm milk. I’ve always topped a bowl of vanilla ice cream with swirls of Hershey’s syrup.

I never looked at the ingredients list until yesterday. I was shocked to learn that its three main ingredients are high fructose corn syrup, corn syrup, and water! How long has this been going on?

Surely, one could make chocolate syrup at home. Yes, recipes abound. They are simple, fast, and inexpensive. You can bet I’ll be making some soon,.

Copyright 2014 by Shirley Domer

Happiness Is a Brown Sugar Pie

A couple of days ago I wrote about happiness in old age and how different it is from the happiness of youth. In youth we explore. In old age we relish what we’ve found.

My pal Barbara and I agree that one major source of happiness for us is good homemade food. Having been around for more than seven decades, we know good food and we know how to prepare it. So do most of our friends.

Both Barb and I wear hearing aids, which make eating in restaurants a trial. Restaurants, especially those with the trendy stark décor, are too noisy. The food is almost always disappointing. We prefer to eat at home or with friends in their homes. After all, we can cook!

Not only can we cook, we also can innovate and try new recipes. Yesterday, for example, I made some sugar pies. Sugar pies traditionally are made from scraps of pie dough, rolled thin, sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon, and baked. My grandmother made them, my mother made them, and I’ve made them my whole life as a cook.

I thought sugar pies would be a good accompaniment to egg custard – something crisp to complement the custard’s soft texture. I had made the custard using brown sugar, so I decided to carry that theme on in the sugar pies. Instead of sprinkling white sugar and cinnamon on the rolled-out piecrust, I sprinkled on brown sugar mixed with cinnamon. Here half of the sugar pies are, ready to bake.

I baked them for 14 minutes in a 375º oven. I knew they were done when the aroma of melting brown sugar drifted through the kitchen.

The brown sugar, melting, forms a crusty, crunchy top. We can’t stop eating them!

Happiness is a brown sugar pie!

Copyright 2014 by Shirley Domer

Let's Take a Walk

Whew! I think winter is on the run. The sun is shining and the temperature is 56º F.

Hey, I see a bird at the suet bag! Let’s step out on the deck and take a look.

This homemade contraption seems to be working.

Say, while we’re out here, let’s walk around to the front and see if the elm trees are blooming. I’ll bet they are. I’ve had a stuffy nose and itchy eyes for a couple of days now.

Uh-oh, this looks like moles working in the back yard. They must have awakened from their winter’s nap.

On we go to the front yard. Oh, yes. The elm trees are aglow with blooms.

Let’s go into the garden and check the garlic and shallots. There are very tiny shoots of green. If we had mulched them they would be farther along by now.

We must say hi to the girls. See how they gather at the gate when they see us coming?

Heading back to the house I see the new mulch on the chicken house path is settling in nicely.

This fresh air smells so good we should stay out a little longer. Let’s walk over to the memorial.

Now, here’s something interesting. At first I thought this was a group of strange mushrooms, but I do believe it is scat. I’ve never seen scat quit like that, have you? Maybe it's dog, but I doubt it. The turds are about an inch in diameter.

The memorial looks peaceful with the late afternoon sun behind it. We should come back here and talk about the two little gravestones. You can't see them from here, but they are leaning against an old stump to the right of the memorial.

Well, let's go back in. We’ve seen several signs of spring: birds eating suet in preparation for the mating season, moles working underground, elm trees in bloom, shallots sprouting, and hens with healthy red combs and glossy feathers. It looks like spring, it smells like spring, and I think winter’s on the run. Oh, that old dragon will last his tail another time or two before he retreats for his summer’s rest, but basically he's done for.

Copyright 2014 by Shirley Domer