Cooking
... for the first time in - well, a long time. Four months? And believe me when I say ours is a household that is very seldom without eggs.
It's a weird, and very small gesture, I suppose. But somehow it was also a purchase that made me go: wow. We're really home. In our very own apartment. Not some pink motel room, not a rented house, not someone else's home. Just plain HOME. For the last couple of months: in the States - when we got back and stayed at my Dad's and my Mom's alternately, between work - on a jaunt to France with the family last week - home's been somewhere non-fixed and always fleeting. All of a sudden, it's place where you can keep eggs.
Mind you, we were in for a surprise when we got the apartment back. I spend the last week (and still am spending a lot of time) cleaning the place and the stuff in it, 'cause the people that had rented it turned out to be little piggies that hadn't bothered to clean it before they left, or, for that matter, in the 3 and a half month they lived here, judging by the inch-thick layer of dust - on the floor. And had broken three lamps. And a thermostat on one of the heaters. And left the heat on. Crazy stuff! But it's a good way of reacquainting myself with the place, and all of my knick-knack. There sure is a lot of it. Heh, and even more after the trip. Someone had to buy a new closet for all of the new clothes...:-)
So anyways. Eggs. Equals cooking. Alas, cooking is not being done much. Working is. Not cheap to travel. I don't know what's gonna happen here on F&T, but, as I've said in practically every post the last 6 months, hopefully SOMETHING will happen soon. I've been thinking. I've got ideas. Maybe they'll be put into reality.
But I'm home. And I'm happy. At least that's a start. Now tell me again, how does that big shiny thing in the corner of the kitchen work?
- Curry Deviled Eggs: Recipe
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My name is Cathy and I'm a 50-year-old blogger. Waahhhhh!!!!! Birthdays come and go and I don't give them much thought, but this one is different. It's not the vanity thing... it's the living thing! I keep thinking, best case - I've...
- 'flick' Away The Dirt, And Win!
Ever since I first saw Swiffer products advertised, I was hooked. See, I hate cleaning my house. I hate it. Hate, hate, hate. Hate housework, with a passion. And yet? I'm a housemommy! So, I'm kind of stuck. I suppose it comes from being the person...
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A recent book review in Cook's Illustrated referred to "the Alice Waters school of idyllic ingredients." You know, those oh-so-precious perfect baby fava beans, or liberal doses of truffle oil long before it was the hip ingredient du jour a couple...
- Because, Life.
My Dad used to boil me eggs. Back when I was little, and I was with him on the weekends, we'd usually have soft boiled eggs in the morning. Two per person. I'd rush to eat my first one before him, so that I could turn it upside down and pretend...
Cooking
Today, I bought eggs...
Someone else's home? From The Enchanted Woods at Winterthur...
... for the first time in - well, a long time. Four months? And believe me when I say ours is a household that is very seldom without eggs.
It's a weird, and very small gesture, I suppose. But somehow it was also a purchase that made me go: wow. We're really home. In our very own apartment. Not some pink motel room, not a rented house, not someone else's home. Just plain HOME. For the last couple of months: in the States - when we got back and stayed at my Dad's and my Mom's alternately, between work - on a jaunt to France with the family last week - home's been somewhere non-fixed and always fleeting. All of a sudden, it's place where you can keep eggs.
Mind you, we were in for a surprise when we got the apartment back. I spend the last week (and still am spending a lot of time) cleaning the place and the stuff in it, 'cause the people that had rented it turned out to be little piggies that hadn't bothered to clean it before they left, or, for that matter, in the 3 and a half month they lived here, judging by the inch-thick layer of dust - on the floor. And had broken three lamps. And a thermostat on one of the heaters. And left the heat on. Crazy stuff! But it's a good way of reacquainting myself with the place, and all of my knick-knack. There sure is a lot of it. Heh, and even more after the trip. Someone had to buy a new closet for all of the new clothes...:-)
So anyways. Eggs. Equals cooking. Alas, cooking is not being done much. Working is. Not cheap to travel. I don't know what's gonna happen here on F&T, but, as I've said in practically every post the last 6 months, hopefully SOMETHING will happen soon. I've been thinking. I've got ideas. Maybe they'll be put into reality.
But I'm home. And I'm happy. At least that's a start. Now tell me again, how does that big shiny thing in the corner of the kitchen work?
- Curry Deviled Eggs: Recipe
Despite my aversion to Christmas, I have always loved Easter. My experience of it was never religious, but purely secular. Growing up, Easter meant a celebration of Spring, egg hunts, fluffy bunnies and chicks, dyeing eggs with onion skins and flowers,...
- Oh No, Five-o!
My name is Cathy and I'm a 50-year-old blogger. Waahhhhh!!!!! Birthdays come and go and I don't give them much thought, but this one is different. It's not the vanity thing... it's the living thing! I keep thinking, best case - I've...
- 'flick' Away The Dirt, And Win!
Ever since I first saw Swiffer products advertised, I was hooked. See, I hate cleaning my house. I hate it. Hate, hate, hate. Hate housework, with a passion. And yet? I'm a housemommy! So, I'm kind of stuck. I suppose it comes from being the person...
- Home Cooking?
A recent book review in Cook's Illustrated referred to "the Alice Waters school of idyllic ingredients." You know, those oh-so-precious perfect baby fava beans, or liberal doses of truffle oil long before it was the hip ingredient du jour a couple...
- Because, Life.
My Dad used to boil me eggs. Back when I was little, and I was with him on the weekends, we'd usually have soft boiled eggs in the morning. Two per person. I'd rush to eat my first one before him, so that I could turn it upside down and pretend...