January

January is the month with a punch in the upper Midwest. I salute the cold weather warriors whose professions require gearing up each day with long underwear, Carhartt coveralls and heavy duty boots. I confess that my job demands only the usual amount of outer clothing for survival so I am able to watch the world of wintery weather through my living room window and the windshield of my car. Nevertheless, January inspires a sense of camaraderie as we take the weather hand that we are dealt and make the best of it.

January can rage with tempestuous winds and temperatures that cause the mercury to plummet in a matter of minutes. The cold, dry air can burn unprotected skin and damage one’s extremities. Sometimes the snow comes in by the bucket loads. Other times it fluffs its way down with a mere dusting.  January can also sneak in a few days of balmy (30’s) temps that kiss the ground with a hint of spring. And as quickly as a warm day arrives, so does the return of another Arctic blast reminding us to keep our winter coats zipped up and our gloves handy.

There are unmistakable sounds to January, as well. When the weather gets really cold, the car doors creak with an almost earsplitting slice into the air. The sound of ice scrapers being used on windshields indicates the type of precipitation we’ve received. If the scraper is making fluffy, sluffy sounds, we’ve received a dry, pillowy kind of snow. A scritchy, scratchy sound indicates that we've had a wet snow/rain combination that has created an ice pond on the glass. If it’s the sound of the windshield wipers only, we’ve had just a snow dusting and we will be on our way with barely a pause.

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Naked trees and shrubbery are also a part of the landscape in January. Bird nests are clearly visible and longing for the return of their former homeowners. A few lone ravens perch on the branches of the barren monuments as they claim exclusive rights to their territory. The snow is gathered on the branches and occasionally fluffs off, creating a snow globe effect when the wind breezes its way through.

January requires planning ahead and always having a Plan B. Coats and gloves must be donned and cars need to be started to warm up. Winter survival kits need to be packed into the vehicle even if the departure day is sunny and bright. Cell phones need to be fully charged. Weather forecasts and alerts are carefully monitored. School kids expectantly watch the television screen for an announcement of their favorite holiday, the snow day. Driveways need to be shoveled and shoveled again after the snow plow has gone by.

Probably the best part of January is that it is approximately 300 days away from the next holiday hype season. We can all breathe a sigh of relief and throw out the last of the cheese balls and cookie trays. Households fall back into the rhythm of daily living. Some folks begin searching for a tropical getaway vacation package deal. Others, like me, are content to make a pot of soup, brew some tea and enjoy the sights and sounds of January.

Numbers

A recent trend in many newspapers and magazines is a section called “by the numbers.” I’m not sure why that particular feature is used so frequently. Perhaps it is our need to quantify information and follow trends. I think it might be because we like to read short bytes of information rather than analyze lengthy expository writing. Whatever the case may be, I’m going to jump on the integers band wagon and share my numbers from the year 2012. For my mathy friends, please note that I am rounding generously and most of my data will probably not hold up under court investigation.

720—pots of coffee were made by my hands this past year. My early morning habit prompts me to make coffee wherever I go…home, school, church, hotel rooms and homes in need of a pot of coffee. No lattes, frappes or frou frou drinks. Just keep it black and hot.

290—crossword puzzles. There is nothing more relaxing than a sharp pencil, a crossword puzzle and a good dictionary. I like the semi-simple ones that take a moderate amount of thinking. I’m in the zone for completion, not frustration.

240—students. Over a year’s time, I am required to learn the names, temperaments, and skill levels of a diverse population. No small task for this aging brain. Current monikers make it even more daunting with their creative spellings.  Let’s just say I miss Bob and Nancy.

210—games of Spider Solitaire. No excuse for that statistic. Sometimes one needs a mindless diversion that demands nothing more than the click of a mouse. I especially love the fireworks at the end of the game when I win.

75—workout hours with Leslie Sansone and Denise Austin DVDs. That translates to 270,000 seconds of mind numbing monotony. I’m ashamed to say that I mock both of them throughout my workouts. I do not understand their belief that workouts are fast and fun. Reading a book makes time fly for me, not leg squats with a purple stretchy band.

46—Prairie Home Companion shows. My happy place is from 5:00-7:00 on Saturday evening with Mr. Keillor and his music, stories and life at Lake Wobegon. I’m not sure how many more years Garrison has in him so I cherish each season as though it may be his last.

12—cheesecakes were made last year. My husband would say that that is not nearly enough. My waistline would disagree.

1—wish for you.   Happy New Year and God's blessings to you!

Favorite Things

 

Ever since Julie Andrews sang the infamous words “raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens”, we have had a fascination with favorite things. According to the song, we just need to remember such things and then we won’t “feel so bad.” Oprah took this concept a step further and hosted Favorite Things shows where the lucky participants received all of Oprah’s latest items of choice.

In the spirit of giving, I am going to pretend to give all of you readers my favorite things. Here is what you are going to receive in our land of make believe.

1) Stir Crazy Popcorn Popper— I’ve never been able to navigate a bag of microwave popcorn without burning the bag and let’s face it, nothing says stink like a burnt bag of popcorn. I refrained from giving you the new Deluxe model due to unfavorable reviews on Amazon. I’m going to stick with my tried and true undeluxe machine without all the bells and whistles. It will develop a crusty, melty patina after several years of use which will only add to its charm and flavor development. It will definitely make you feel not so bad when the munchies hit on a cold winter’s eve.

2) Heating Pad—Never mind the disclaimers on the package that “burns can occur on any setting” and “not to be used with pets or invalids”, I’m going to continue to live with my little square of risky behavior. I confess that it will probably take a 12-step program to wean me away from my heating pad dependency, however, there is just nothing as cozy as a fresh crossword puzzle, a sharp pencil and a warm heating pad. Cheap entertainment and no need for a leopard print Snuggie.

3) Penzeys spices—I should rue the day I received my first Penzeys catalog. But I don’t. I love the quality of their products. I also love the fact that their home base is in the Midwest rather than some exotic locale. Your gift package will include my favorite go-to group: Italian Herb Mix, Garlic Powder, Ground Pepper, Greek Seasoning and English Prime Rib Rub. And since we’re still in fantasy land, I’ll throw in a few vanilla beans for your next Crème Brulee and some Grey Sea Salt for whenever you need a bump up on the flav-o-meter.

4) P.D. James series of mystery novels—I’m usually reading non-fiction, but when I have a yen for something less didactic, I switch to mystery novels. The very British Ms. James is still penning books at the age of 92 and she knows how to spin a tale of intrigue without a lot of mushy romance and goopy sensationalism. And who doesn’t love a spot of tea and a plate of crumpets with their murders?

5) Turkish Terry Cloth Bathrobe—Nothing says luxury and relaxation like a plushy new robe. I have texture issues so I prefer the heft and weave of terry cloth. I would probably keep my robe on all day if it wasn’t socially unacceptable so I just wait for the sun to go down and then scramble for my evening wrap. No zippers, snaps or buttons allowed.

Merry Christmas to you all and I hope your schnitzels are served with noodles and your apples are baked into strudels. 

 

 

 

Forbidden

 

Over the years, I have logged my share of hours watching cooking shows. It began with the black and white version of Julia Child as the French Chef and has progressed to an endless palette of shows teaching us how to cook everything from artichokes to ziti. Despite my zeal for watching the shows, I must confess that the transfer into my kitchen is not always immediate or long lasting. I think part of the reason for this disconnect is that there are very few shows (as in none) that focus on real Midwestern cooking. There seem to be a few ingredients that are forbidden in the world of culinary masterpieces. Never mind that these ingredients have stood the test of time and are a cook’s best friend when time is in short supply. I must warn you that the following food items may be disturbing to some. Readers are advised to use discretion before going on.

1) Velveeta Cheese—Yes, there is something creepy about a brick of golden yellow cheese product that sits on unrefrigerated shelves in the grocery store. But, the creamy goodness that occurs when chunks of it are stirred into soups or dip is hard to beat. And to top it all off, there are dozens of uses for the sturdy little box after the cheese is long gone. Win, win in my book.

2) Cream of Anything soups—I’m sure Martha Stewart would have to use an Epi-Pen if she so much as whispered the name of a canned cream soup. Well, I’ll leave it up to Martha to stir up a fancy roux or béchamel sauce for her food binders. As for me, a can of cream of celery soup is just the ticket for whipping up a hearty hotdish on a cold winter’s night. And, yes, Martha would need another Epi-pen for saying the word hotdish.

3) Canned Salmon—Salmon is a very popular ingredient on cooking shows. I’ve learned how to select a fresh salmon by checking for clear eyes, smooth skin and the clean smell of the ocean. Land locked alert—not much for fresh salmon around here. Here’s my advice for selecting salmon—look for a can that is not dented and has a salmony looking fish on the label. Works every time and makes the best salmon loaf around.

4) Cool Whip—There is probably nothing related to the world of dairy in this product, but its versatility just can’t be beat. It doesn’t need whipping, it’s stable enough to withstand the rigors of warm jello, and it keeps in the freezer for…..ever, I think. It’s also quite tasty as a snack right out of the bowl. And, like Velveeta, there are infinite uses for the leftover container.

5) Lipton Onion Soup Mix—Long before we had ten shelves of herbs and spices to choose from in the grocery story, we had a lowly little box with a couple of packets of “onion soup mix.” I’m not sure how many cooks actually used it for making soup, but, boy-howdy, did folks ever use it in a variety of other dishes---meatloaf, hamburger, pot roast, dips--- just about anything that needed a flavor boost. I noticed that the humble box has received a makeover and is now called “Recipe Secrets”. I’m not sure who we are keeping the secrets from, but I’m all for anything that makes life easier.

So, whether you are using Gruyere, Gouda or Velveeta cheese, I hope your holiday cooking season is filled with good recipes and good company. Bon appétit.

 

 

 

 

Here is my recipe for Hearty Beef Stew. No fancy red wine, Turkish bay leaves or homemade beef stock necessary.

1 ½ lbs. stew meat

4-6 potatoes

1 ½ c. carrots

1 med. onion

2-3 stalks of celery

1 can tomato soup

1 can cream of mushroom soup

1 ½ cans of water

Salt and pepper to taste

Cut up vegetables and stir all ingredients together in a large pot. Bake at 275 degrees for 5 hours.

 

Madness

Well, I did it. I dipped my toe into the Black Friday pool of mayhem and madness. I had no intentions of doing so until I noticed a significant 3-digit savings on a futon I had been eyeing for our camping style basement. I still would not have succumbed to such folly if the store offering the special wasn’t just five blocks from my house and the opening time was my usual grocery shopping time of 6:00 am. Doable. I thought. What I discovered is that there are hidden rules involved with this type of commando shopping that are unbeknownst to me.

I got up at my usual time in the morning and had my usual cup of coffee. At the appointed time of 6:03, I left my house and arrived at the store.

6:04: The parking lot didn’t look too full so I felt I could leave the safety of my vehicle and enter the premises. I did so with the bravado of someone who might actually know what they are doing under these circumstances. Upon entering the store, however, it was evident that I was swimming with sharks and these sharks were swimming in packs. Staccato like code speak was being shouted out as carts whizzed by me with destinations clearly understood by the cart drivers. Eyes were glazed over from Black Friday shopping that started before the turkey was even out of the oven on Thursday. Speed walking was the norm. Carts were jostling by with driven ferocity.

6:06: I quickly ducked into the baby formula aisle when I realized I was in danger of being trampled by a cart on my tail. I found myself hyperventilating by the cans of Similac, hoping I could still make it a few more feet to the futon display. What I discovered was that the futon display had nothing to do with the speeding carts dogging me down the aisle. It was the pop stacked behind the futons that was causing all the ruckus. Apparently, pop was the hot item at this store and folks were busy stacking them on the futons as they rearranged their carts so they could stuff more of the sugar laced elixir into their carts.

6:07: I bravely stepped out of the formula aisle and made a few more steps toward the futons. Now I was surrounded by pop laden carts and wheezing shoppers trying to wield their goods to the checkout. I realized that purchasing a futon was going to involve manager intervention as it is not something that one just picks up and tucks neatly into a cart.

6:08: I abandoned the futon plan because, quite frankly, the shoppers around me were getting scary. But, I was still determined to make this a “shopping experience”, so I went for the discounted rolls of toilet paper (clearly, not as hot an item as the pop). I moved toward the checkout counters and saw that all the carts were now lined up to kingdom come, waiting to be checked out.

6:09: Put the Charmin down and head for the car.

6:10: Home again and drinking another cup of coffee or two.

While I was certainly not successful in my first attempt at Black Friday shopping, I did learn that it’s all about the timing. I went back later to check on the futon and found a much different scene. Although there were still folks wrestling cases of pop into their semi-trailers, most of them were moving on to their next port of call. I walked in and found a manager who was more than willing to give me a deal on the futon of my choice.

And I got my rolls of toilet paper.

Mission accomplished.

 

 

 

 

 

Fix-It

 

Between the two of us, my husband and I have a few skills that have helped us trot along in life. Give my husband a set of blueprints and he can build a house, a deck or just about anything made of wood. Give me a room full of twelve-year-olds and I can get them through a lesson on mitosis without loss of limb or life. We are both able to have semi-intelligent conversations about local and world events. We enjoy classic movies and an occasional musical or two. We like to read and are happy to share our opinions with anyone who asks (or doesn’t).

When it comes to all things mechanical, however, we are most assuredly the nitwit twins. My husband, of course, is a little more likely to take a crack at fixing whatever is broken. In defense of him, he is definitely more adept at hands on projects. As stated earlier, if there is wood involved, no problem. Moving metal parts are another story. I’ve watched him hover over an uncooperative engine with that “You’re not going to outsmart me” look in his eyes, only to be beaten by the sputtering and spattering of the world of combustion.

Recently, our furnace went out. Of course, it was Saturday morning when we noticed the drop in temperature. Of course, that means choosing between a very expensive service call or dressing up like Nanook of the North. Of course, we chose “fixing it” ourselves.

Over the years, we have developed a two pronged attack strategy for repairing things that are out of our league. Step one is to “Leave it set.” I knew this directive was coming my way so I went to the thermostat and turned off the furnace. By this time the house was quite frosty so I knew the loss of further heat was going to be minimal. After about a half hour, we turned the furnace back on, crossed our fingers, slurped another hot cup of coffee and waited for the magic to happen. The furnace made a groaning sound as it kicked in, but, alas, no warm air was projected from the registers.

Time for step two: Give it a good whack. I must confess that this step made me a bit nervous. Something about thumping away on an object that produces fire and heat seems risky to me. But desperate times call for desperate actions. I heard a few wallops on the furnace and lo and behold heat started flowing through the room. That’s the good news. The bad news is that as soon as the furnace reached the set room temperature, it shut off and did not start up again. So, you guessed it, we spent the weekend heating the house up to tropical proportions, letting it cool down, whacking the furnace and starting the cycle over again. It was a wear-your-layers kind of weekend.  And, yes, the furnace has been diagnosed as terminal so ka-ching, ka-ching, makes me want to keep whacking the beast.

All this makes me wonder if our fix-it strategy would work for me. I have many days when I’m quite out of sorts. So, if you see me sitting on my couch, thumping myself in the head, you’ll know I’m just striving for a re-set.

 

Inventions

I recently finished a book about the inventions of Clarence Birdseye. If you think you might have heard of his name, you are probably right. He was the man who introduced America to the possibilities of frozen foods. He was clearly a man before his time. The average American didn’t even own refrigerators, much less freezers that didn’t involve ice blocks and sawdust. He was a persevering soul with a longsuffering wife and he went to his grave still sketching inventions that he was sure would make the world a better place.

I’m not an inventor but I am grateful for the inventions that have enhanced my life. Here are a few of them:

1) Showers—When I’m forced to use a bathtub, I feel like I’m sitting in my own soup, watching my skin curdle. Not very refreshing in my estimation. I’m not sure if the shower was ever “invented” but someone had to follow up on how good it felt to stand under a waterfall as compared to sloshing around in a murky river. As my husband likes to say, “There’s nothing like a hot shower to wash the stink of the day away.”

2) Pencil sharpeners—Using a knife to whittle away at a nubbin of graphite embedded wood is one way to sharpen a pencil, but not very efficient. We now have crank sharpeners, mini-hand held sharpeners and electric sharpeners, all of which will probably be displayed in the Smithsonian Institute as relics of the pre-IPad generation. Until then, I’m happy to crank away.

3) Bunn coffeemakers—I love my Bunn. For those of us who have survived percolators, jars of instant coffee and the early models of Mr. Coffee, it is a blessing to use a coffeemaker that has your cup of java brewed before you are finished brushing your teeth. A coffee addict needs a buzz early and often.

4) Air Conditioners—This tundra girl never lets a summer day go by without thanking the Lord for the air conditioner. Having grown up in a house without such a convenience, I’m well aware of the toll that heat takes on one’s nerves and productivity. My mom was an expert in utilizing the “prairie air-conditioning system”--open all the windows in the evening and put a large box fan in the window to pull the cool air into the house. Then, promptly close all the windows in the morning to keep the sultry air of the day outside of the house. I can still see the feet of my sister and I as we stuck them into our bedroom window from our bed, trying to cool off enough to get a good night’s sleep.

5)  Curling irons—Believe it or not, folks, there was a time before curling irons were accessible to the general public. As someone with poker straight hair, I am grateful for the chance to add a little lift to my lifeless tresses. I remember a time when some women did their Saturday afternoon grocery shopping with a head covered with hair rollers.  Electric rollers and curling irons have pretty much eradicated that fashion statement. Probably a good thing.

6) Pasteurization—Thank you, Louis Pasteur, for your obsession with microbes. Pasteurization has made it possible for me not to worry about pathogens doing the backstroke in my dairy products. I’ve been up close and personal with a cow’s udder and I think it is best to leave the raw stuff to the baby cows.

I hope you are grateful, too, for all the inventions that make your life a bit more pleasant. And, thank you again, Mr. Birdseye, for making peas just as delightful in the winter as they are in their summer pods.