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glittermom said...

Did your mom have a recipe book where she wrote down her special recipes? My mom had one and I like to look through it and remember things she made that I had forgotten. She wrote in it long ago before there were ball point pens. We just had fountain pens. So her recipes are mostly written in pencil. Which after so long are fading.

Andrew replies…

Glittermom, no she didn’t sadly. I know many of her recipes by heart like her tangy chicken and sour cream and mushroom chicken. Those were always crowd pleasers when I was growing up. A lot of her recipes came out of Nadine Knowles’ cookbook Don't Forget the Parsley.  Search for it on the web and you may find a copy. It was printed in 1976. Nadine was a true Southern lady and she cooked Southern food.

Sometimes it is Hard to Say Goodbye…

“I want to be totally lazy and laze in the bed and be with you, Wheezy, and Maggie this morning,” Tracy told me sanguinely as she dressed for work. 

“I know you do, sweetheart,” I replied. “There is a vacuum in this house when you leave for the day. It can only be filled by you.”

Tracy and I also have to go grocery shopping tonight. We try to stick to our old schedule and we never arrive before nine. That’s a little trick my father taught me. Usually, Kroger is a wasteland by that late at night. I spend about eighty dollars and Tracy spends about eighty dollars.

“What’s for lunch?” Tracy then asked me excitedly before she left for work.

“I thought we would be Asian today and cook some soy sauce seasoned ground beef and cabbage over a bed of rice and crunchy chow mien noodles.”

“That sounds so delicious,” she replied to me. “I cannot wait until noon gets here!”

“It was mom’s recipe and I always enjoyed it when I was growing up.”

Ah, That Lasagna…

I had made homemade chicken salad for lunch. Tracy thought it was delicious.

“Kudos to the Chef!” she told me.

I garnished our plates with a dill pickle spear and some sour cream and onion potato chips. I was pleased with myself when I asked Tracy what she wanted for supper.

“Let’s have some of the Stouffer’s lasagna and some garlic and butter Texas toast,” she told me.

We are going to be 300lbs, but I said okay. I headed out to the grocery shore after Tracy left for her after lunch second shift at work. She called me while I was in Kroger.

“Cook it twice as long as it says on the package,” Tracy told me seemingly an old hat at this dish.

I got the family pack just to play it safe. I thought it would burn cooking so long, but Tracy was right. It tasted much better cooked doubly long. The sauce wasn’t runny and grew creamy and spicier. .

Supper, Tracy, and Janice…

I’ve got mom’s recipe chili bubbling away on the stove. The house smells wonderful. Tracy should be home in about 30 minutes. Charlie also called me this afternoon and said Janice’s computer is acting up. I’ve already got a good idea of what’s going on and I haven’t even seen it yet. I will have to walk Janice through the process of removing the programs she doesn’t use and thus de-clogging Windows 10’s registry. She probably has forty programs and background processes that open on start up whereas I only have ten. My computer would run rings around hers as well. Charlie is so miserly that he buys Janice the cheapest computers except for the laptop he buys her every few years.

“Can I come pick you up in a little while?” Charlie asked. “Her computer is stalling.”

Charlie rolls into town around seven getting home from work.

“Sure,” I replied. “I hope I can fix Janice’s computer.”

Lord knows, Charlies done enough for me over the years. I am thinking of giving Janice one of my decent spare computers.

The only other thing I did today besides straightening up the house and getting lunch and supper started was to buy two surge protectors for my father’s TV and computer. He thought those little power strips were surge protectors. I woefully shook my head. It is getting that time of the year where we get to experience frequent electrical storms as my grandmother would call them. I wanted to get dad protected. His TV is especially sensitive to power surges and outages. 

Goodnights Are Better Than Goodbyes…

Sometimes I feel like I am caught in groundhog day – each day repeating itself ad nauseum. The alarm clock once again shrilly rang out at 6:45am. Tracy climbed out of the bed with a moan at being woken so abruptly. I turned off the alarm and escaped to the screened porch to have my first cigarette of the day.

“Just think!” I said excitedly as Tracy dressed. “One more day at work and you have the weekend off.”

“Let’s pray I don’t have to work Saturday until lunch,” Tracy replied.

“It is so strange not having the Magster in the house,” Tracy then told me. “It is too quiet!”

“She’s going to be so mad at me for putting her through all that,” I replied with a weak chuckle.

Maggie should be home around 2pm. She’s getting the “works” including a grooming and teeth cleaning. It is going to take some time to do all they were going to do to her.  I keep thinking of her having to sleep on those cold concrete kennel floors. I know she must’ve been uncomfortable last night.

The smell of breakfast is still lingering hours after I cooked this morning. I fried some sausage patties and baked some Mary B’s buttermilk biscuits. It made for some mighty fine sausage biscuits.

How Do You Write About the Vagaries of Life and Make it Sound Interesting?

It is a tough thing to do on a night like tonight.

Tracy had class tonight. They have moved into the Baroque period and Tracy said she was listening to harpsichords on the drive home. I was delighted to hear that and told her I had more Baroque music on my computer in the computer room. I told her next will come the Classical period and then the Romantic period leading up to the 20th century.

“It is a quaint sound,” she said to me on the couch of Baroque as we debriefed.

“Quite distinctive!” I added. “And easy to recognize!”

Tracy appreciates the enthusiasm and help I have to offer for her class.

I cooked supper. We had spaghetti and meat sauce and a garden salad. It was pretty good if I do say so myself. I used my mother’s recipe which is always a crowd pleaser. You know anything that starts with sautéed in butter garlic, celery and onions is going to be good – your classic mirepoix minus the carrots.

Dad and Tracy both have to work until lunch tomorrow. I will be sleeping in with Wheezy. That cat sleeps more than any cat I’ve ever seen or it may be normal for cats to sleep so much. She keeps one eye open looking out for Maggie, though.  She recently discovered the dog door watching Maggie come and go and has been making short forays into the backyard. I am hoping we can dispense with the litterbox before long.

My Tuna Helper was a Hit!

Tracy got off of work at 3pm and headed to my house. I already had supper bubbling away on the stove. It has been so nice to have her so close by.

“Let me let it cool and thicken and then we will eat,” I told her of the tuna concoction as Maggie vied for her affections.

The recipe called for 3 tablespoons of butter, but I just added a whole stick for good measure. I also added an extra cup and a half of milk instead of the requested cup and a half of hot water. Next, came some of the most beautiful broccoli florets I’ve ever seen. I can thank Green Giant for that.

I fixed Tracy and I two healthy bowls and sprinkled shredded cheddar cheese on top. Yes, it was a bazillion calories, but you have to splurge sometimes. Tracy thought it was delicious and she is not a big fan of tuna. I used white albacore tuna instead of regular tuna so it wouldn’t be so tuna fishy.

“How is your music appreciation class going?” I asked Tracy as we cuddled on the couch after supper.

“We’re in the medieval ages and listening to Gregorian chant,” she told me.

I told her how much I love Gregorian chant and how angelic it was.

“Remember the three B’s,” I told her and she looked at me perplexed. “Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms.”

Of Casseroles, Kitchens and Christmas Cheer…

I ended up making a broccoli, chicken, rice and cheddar casserole this evening. All I have to do is put it in the oven in the next 30 minutes or so and let the cheese get bubbly and the bread crumbs get brown. The heat and serve rolls should take only 10 minutes to bake. I’ve also got a tasty green salad with some of dad’s homemade thousand island dressing he made for me. Tracy will be here at seven my time for our very own Christmas extravaganza. Tracy says it is novel having a boyfriend who can cook when Michael couldn’t even open and bake canned biscuits without burning down the house.

We are going to exchange gifts after supper. I hope she likes what I got her – the turquoise inlay watch. I also got her some stocking stuffers and she has her very own decorated Christmas stocking. I already know what she got me as she told me – an “action pack” of four currently popular video games. I am sure I will enjoy them. I am wishfully hoping Morrowind Online is included and alluded to that fantasy. “Men are so hard to buy for,” I can hear Tracy say now.

Situational Saturdays…

I have brand new neighbors across the street. I walked over today and talked to the wife of the familial unit.

“I just wanted to welcome y’all into the neighborhood and let me know if you need any help moving,” I told her as I shook her hand.

She seemed very friendly and waved goodbye as I walked off back to my house. Dad marveled that I did that considering my social anxieties.

“You’ve come a long way, son,” he told me.

Culinarily Frou Frou…

Dad and I watched our GPTV cooking shows this afternoon. We have both grown to enjoy this Saturday event very much. Some of the cooking can be way over the top, though. A guy was barbecuing saffron infused cheese and bacon stuffed chicken breasts over old growth grapevine wood which gave it a “sweet, succulent taste”. Dad just looked at me and we both rolled our eyes.

“Now, where in the hell are you going to find old growth grapevine wood around here?” dad asked me facetiously.

Every time I heard grapevine, I thought of that monthly publication put out about Alcoholics Anonymous.

You’re Going to Make Spaghetti with that?

That’s what my father exclaimed as we were standing in line at Kroger last night. I have a very simplified spaghetti meat sauce recipe now. It is one extra large bottle of Ragu Old World Style spaghetti sauce and two small cans of tomato paste with oregano, garlic, and basil. It gets good and thick on the stove after simmering for two hours. Dad has an elaborate spaghetti recipe with sautéed celery, onions, butter, and whatnot. I just want something quick and easy that still tastes good. My simplified recipe fits the bill.

I was extremely overjoyed this morning when I remembered I had one more soda in the fridge left from last night. I had bought three Baja Blast Mountain Dew drinks at checkout instead of my usual two – my favorite soda. I relished this remaining soda with an acute zest and quite a few cigarettes as I caught up on my favorite haunts on the internet. Savored would be a better word. Then, I got my spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove after I browned the 2lbs of ground beef. I like to emphasize the meat in meat sauce! The house smells wonderful right now. It is making me hungry again after Maggie’s and my big breakfast.

I got dad a funny “thank you” greeting card last night and filled it out in the car as he was loading his groceries next to me. It read “Thanks for saving my life. Love, Your Son”. He loved it and gave me a big hug. He can be an old softie at times. You just have to catch him at the right moment. He’s not all curmudgeon and criticism all the time although sometimes I wonder.

My big task for the day is taking my crazy meds at noon. Yes, that is it. I don’t have anything pressing to do today. I think I am going to get out and wash my new car late this evening after the heat and thunderstorms subside. 

Vittles On the Stove…

“It smells wonderful in here,” I told my father when I walked through the backdoor into the kitchen. “It smells like your mother’s house when she had been cooking.”

I peered into the pots and pans and dad was cooking his signature pork chops and rice. He was also cooking some green beans Southern style.

“I will run some over to your house when it finishes cooking,” my father told me.

I wrung my hands in anticipation and told him a hearty thank you.

“I need to get the recipe, but we won’t do all that tonight,” I said.

“It is really simple,” my father replied. “I will write it down and bring it with me when I bring your supper.”

Cooking is the Name of the Game...

baked chicken and wild rice

I am sticking to my diet so far. Tonight's journal writing sodas were two Diet Mountain Dews instead of the sugary variety. I am drinking one while I write this and they are not bad at all. I could get used to drinking them.

"Why don't you try some of those Lean Cuisine meals," my father told me brainstorming as we browsed the frozen food aisle.

"I've tried them before," I replied. "And the portions are meager leaving me hungry for more."

"They taste great, though," I added positively.

I decided I was just going to have to cook my meals and be culinarily creative. My father didn't like me saying that at all. He says my kitchen will be a mess and I won't wash my pots and pans. Oh, ye of little faith.

"You'll get bugs!" he caustically and cautiously told me.

We are going to be having meals like baked chicken and wild rice and light tuna and chicken salad sandwiches. I am going to cook mom's chicken spaghetti one evening and her mushrooms and chicken as well. Modest portions of chicken are going to be the name of the game.

I am lamenting the fact that I couldn't buy many of my usual breakfast foods. It was a major source of the calories I intake every day. I will just have some cottage cheese, buttered toast and a glass of milk in the mornings to suffice. I also bought some bagels and cream cheese.

The Hunter, Charlie, and Papa...

The phone rang several times this afternoon and I was hesitant to answer it. My father rarely if ever calls me from work.

"Hello?" I answered as I threw caution to the wind.

"Come and get your Cokes and smokes," Old Fuss and Feathers said. "I got off of work early."

I told my father I am having trouble with anxiety today and wouldn't be able to make it to the grocery store this afternoon as he intended. He said that was fine and he would get me up some good stuff from his pantry to eat.

"The guy that leases my timberland to go deer and turkey hunting is taking Charlie and me out to eat," my father said. "We are going to eat steaks at the Hunter's Pub at the Columbus crossroads."

The Hunter's Pub has one of the best porterhouse steaks I have ever eaten.

Dad was going to make Janice's beef stroganoff for supper, but the change of plans made him give me all the ingredients and he wrote down the recipe. I also got a fresh loaf of honey wheat bread and some cold cuts dad had in the fridge.

"That ought to get you by until tomorrow," my father told me. "We are going to have to go grocery shopping for you tomorrow, though."

Knocked My Feet Right Out From Under Me...

My injection didn't hit me until 2 PM and boy did it do a number on me. I felt flustered, the room began to spin, and my heart started to pound in my chest. I like to feel abnormal in a good way, but this was just too much to bear. Maggie and I laid down on the bed and it took two hours to pass -- the feeling of my injection that is. It has happened before, but never has it been this intense.

The Chuck-Wagon Rolled into Town or Simply Bacon Beckons...

I started a pot of coffee this morning, but didn't drink a drop. I just like the smell of it mingled with the smell of frying bacon. It reminds me so much of my grandmother and the summers I would spend with her on her farm.

Maggie wasn't about to miss a chance at bacon and she was underfoot the whole time I was cooking. I also made a big pot of bubbly, buttery grits. I think those Spanish folks call it polenta.

I am anxiously awaiting news from my father and WOW! I just looked up my modem's specs on the web and it is DOCSIS 2.0 compliant. That means to obtain the internet speed I want, then they will have to upgrade my modem to the DOCSIS 3.0 standard. WOW! touts that they have award winning customer service. So far it has been lackluster for me. We got the ball rolling Wednesday and dad and I have yet to hear one peep out of them. The next step they will most likely take is making an appointment to swap out my cable modem.

Notes From the Medication Chronicles -- Soup is Served in Heaven...

Let me say first that taking my medications in the afternoon has been superbly beneficial for me. The early afternoons and late evenings are primetime in my life. My father seems to be happy with the arrangement as well.

****************

The phone rang twice meaning my father was calling and wanted me to call him back. I had just crawled out of the bed at 5 pm and was a little groggy.

"Come over and take your meds," my father said when I called him back.

Dad's house smelled wonderful when I walked through the back door. He was cooking homemade vegetable beef soup -- one of my favorite meals of his. This was fitting for what I called the first day of winter. It was 59° degrees outside.

"I'll bring you some soup tomorrow along with a fresh pan of cornbread and some crackers," he told me. "I am fixing to add the macaroni in a moment."

My father loved the Mrs. Grissom's pimento cheese I bought him. He was eating some with some crackers as I sat next to him in the den.

"It's got a bite to it," he said very pleasingly.

"Yeah, Its got a little jalapeno pepper in it that gives it that bite," I replied. "I am going to buy you the chicken salad next week. It will remind you of your own chicken salad."

Experimental Cooking...

Last night I tried something completely different with my spaghetti and meat sauce. Normally, I would let the meat sauce simmer for several hours, but I didn't want to wait that long. I was hungry.

I browned the ground beef fully and then just added the Ragu Traditional pasta sauce and hoped for the best. I then went about boiling my noodles and added them to the sauce when they were done in ten minutes.

The spaghetti wasn't half bad. Definitely palatable to say the least. I've had several more bowls of spaghetti and it has grown on me. That makes that recipe so much easier. I wouldn't be surprised if most people who buy that Ragu sauce do the same thing as I do.

The Great Truce...

I seem to have a truce with my mental illness as far as my sleep goes these days. I sleep from 3 am to 3 pm. About 12 hours. This way, I am up in the afternoons and get some daylight hours thrown in the mix that helps with my circadian rhythms. I do think the sunlight helps as far as my doldrums are concerned when I sleep the days away. Soon, when the time changes, I will have even less daylight hour to contend with.

Injection Time!

I just called my father at work to tell him my injection was this Thursday. I can already feel the medication waning.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "It seems like we got it last week,"

"Just look at your next appointment card in your wallet," I told him.

He said I was right and thanked me for reminding him as he had completely forgotten. He said he was going to go ahead and fill the prescription and put it back in the fridge. That way, I won't have to wait Thursday morning. I can grab it and run which is my preferred method of getting my injection.

It Seems Warmed Over. This Day That Is...

I am waiting for my father to call me and tell me supper is ready. He said he was going to cook beef stroganoff. That sounds so delicious. Charlie's wife taught him how to make it. Dad could make a dish rag taste good just like his mother. I told him earlier that I want him to cook his mother's creamed tuna on toast -- a dish his mother would often cook for her grand-kids and we loved it.

Tuleana called me earlier. It's gotta suck to be without a car --especially stuck without a car and you live in the boonies. It is miles to the nearest store.

"I am bored to tears," she told me painfully and pitifully. "I wish you would come get us and let's go do something."

I replied that Mondays are not a good day to come as I buy my groceries then. It also hurt her cause in that I stayed up all night as I couldn't sleep. I didn't wake up until almost 2 PM this afternoon. Yes, I am cycling again and I also noticed I am smoking twice the cigarillos in a day than I normally do. That a sign that the addictive side of my brain is extraordinarily active.

I am seriously debating at the moment if I should fix two extra plates of food and carry them to Rich and Tuleana. It would break up the monotony of their day.

As the Day Winds Down...

I am hoping that my Epicurean father is in the kitchen cooking at this moment. I will gladly wait a little longer for my medications if that is what it takes to get a heaping helping of my Memaw's macaroni and cheese. He said he was also going to cook a pot roast and all the trimmings as well.

Just say no to cheap Kroger wine Johnny Otis!

That is the crucial factor for the day -- wine or mac and cheese.

Gifts From the Spauffords...

My father said that earlier in the day his neighbors, the Spauffords, brought him a whole basket of beautifully ripe tomatoes. He said he was going to bring me some to make tomato sandwiches with. I look forward to that, but it doesn't take much to please me or excite me these days. I told my father I needed a sharp knife to remove the tomato's skin, though.

Lost in Dreamland...

I unplugged the home phone last night and turned off my cell phone as I retired to the bed. Maggie jumped up on the bed and very soon we were in dreamland. When Tuleana finally got me on the phone around lunch today she was in a tizzy.

"I thought something terrible or bad had happened to you," she told me sounding deeply concerned when I answered the phone. "I have been trying to call you all morning!"

That woman could talk to a fence post and carry on a conversation. Her accent makes it so hard for me to understand her as well. She talks a mile a minute. Then I got the classic handoff to Richard. Richard is a man of few words.

Papa Put the Cheese in Cheesy...

I've just returned from my father's house. He made pimento cheese with a new recipe that called for cream cheese. It doesn't get hard in the fridge with the cream cheese added and mixed with the cheddar or so my father said.

"Do you want yours toasted?" Dad asked as I sat at the kitchen table.

"Yes, please!" I exclaimed happily.

The din of the television was ever omnipresent and you could hear it droning on in the den.

I told him of my computer revelations this morning -- of realizing I can make just one more computer out of the parts I had at the house.

Into my father's little toaster oven went two sandwiches with a twist of the timer. The dill pickle spear was the icing on the cake for me. Charlie's wife pickled them a few weeks ago. We also had some frou-frou potato chips that were very salty and chapped my already dry lips.

"I'll see you at nine for your medications," my father told me as I was heading home to do some more computering.

I noticed dad was drinking wine from a little sippy cup. He feels he will drink less out of a little cup like that.

"Don't drink and drive," I told my father rather assertively pointing to his little cup. "I will come and pick them up if you've had too much to drive."

He said he would call me and let me know.

Pass the Perfectly Potable Sweet Iced Tea and the Potato Salad Please...

"Charlie? Cook the hell out of them!" my father said cajoling Charlie as he stood next to the grill flipping burgers and turning dogs this evening.

"Your better watch out as you may get what you want," Charlie told my father chuckling.

Now, this is how a good cookout should be. We don't have to have the whole Valley over and a close-knit group of friends can have a delicious supper together -- relaxed and conversational without social anxiety, strife, and stressful awkward dialog.

Charlie had a little impromptu cookout late this evening. Dad's favorite thing Charlie grills is his value pack hot dogs. Charlie grills the cheapest brands of hot dogs he can find and they come out tasting delicious. I still prefer Hebrew National hot dogs, though. Dad says they are too frou-frou and expensive for him. This is coming from a man that cooks filet mignons once a week.

"I'd rather have your pork chops and rice over any other meal you cook," I told my father and the entourage and we all agreed what a good meal it was.

"I ate two hotdogs and a hamburger," my father said sitting next to me on the couch now back home -- Maggie's couch that is. "I am stuffed."

The medication ritual and Maggie's ritual stops for nothing, though.

Earlier, I was asking Charlie's wife (Janice) if I could have some more potato salad and she told me to eat all I wanted. I took her literally. She was pleased I was so enamored by it.

Charlie has told me before of his secret to a great hamburger and that is to let the ground chuck marinate in Lea and Perrins Worcestershire sauce overnight in the fridge.

As I was leaving, Charlie handed me a big sack of goodies.  There were two hot dogs and two hamburgers and big Tupperware container of Janice's potato salad. The were also a big bag of potato chips. Ah, Bless!