Isn’t This Supposed to Be a Food Blog?

Well, yes. Mostly. And we’ve done lots of food-type things lately.

We found out what happens if you forget that you put the pizza dough into the turned-off oven to rise where it will be safe from both drafts and curious pets. (It’s still ok the next day – actually quite edible.)

We made outrageous quantities of homemade marinara sauce. And burned it. Dammit.

We’ve made recipes we had never even heard of a year ago. It’s a project that we will share more about one of these days.

We’ve gotten a lot of use out of the deep fryer. Best $40 Costco purchase ever. At least on a fun and useful kind of level. Maybe not so much on the waistline part.

We proved that we really can live out of our freezers and pantry for at least a month. And actually live pretty well, although it does get interesting when you run out of rice.

We went to the Mississippi Delta to buy prawns that we turned into our version of New Orleans-style BBQ shrimp. And there was nothing wrong with that. More on that one later.

We learned that when you’re going to be sick, you might as well eat what you like because if you feel that bad, not even rice will stay down for long.

We got one of the best gifts ever from our friends the Newmans of Newman Farm. More on that one later, too. Just be thinking of things to do with lard. I already thought of that one, and Paul thinks it wouldn’t wash out of the sheets.

We’ve reconnected over a great meal with an old friend. Not that she’s old. At least not as old as some of us. (Pointing at Paul. Blinking innocently.)

We’ve found out that we’re losing a good friend and a great chef. Jackson Kramer of Interim fame is leaving us at the end of this week to take up residence in the less flat part of our state. We wish him well, but he will most definitely be missed.

We’ve thought a lot about the food memories of our childhoods and how they shaped the way we think of food today.

We’ve made new food memories as a family. Someday maybe Patric will learn that “cut into bite-sized pieces” means normal adult bites instead of ravenous bottomless pit fifteen year old boy bites.

We’ve learned that a cat can really get into mortadella, or pumpkin-spice donuts as the case may be.

So, yes. We’re doing a lot of food stuff. And we are writing about it slowly but surely. Some of us have had some health stuff going on. And then there is the continued stress of our day jobs. (By the way, if anyone would like to contribute to a “Paul and Angela Should Not Have to Work Fund”, just shoot me an email. We’ll talk.)

Life happens, and it tends to happen faster than you expected. My tiny baby boy is not only taller than me, he’s just a couple of inches from catching up to Paul. Our parents are talking about retirement. We’re having to think about making college weekend trips.

But there’s still food. And writing. Both are a great escape from all the rest of the world sometimes. And yet they seem to be what keep us connected to the things that are really important – friends, family, tradition, change.

And this is supposed to be a food blog. There should be recipes, right? So here are a couple of quickies. They’re comfort/snack food.

Graham Crackers & Milk

Ingredients

  • 4-5 honey graham crackers
  • 1/2 to 3/4 cup whole milk

Instructions

  1. Break the graham crackers into bite sized pieces in a cereal bowl. You don't have to make them all the same size, but it's fine if you do. (And it is not OCD.)
  2. Pour the milk over.
  3. Eat quickly with a spoon so that the graham cracker pieces can still hold their shapes but soak up enough milk to become the sort of thing you used to eat when you were a very little person.
http://www.paulandangela.net/isnt-this-supposed-to-be-a-food-blog/

Shredded Wheat with Peanut Butter

I know it sounds weird, but it's a great snack with a glass of milk.

Ingredients

  • Frosted Mini Wheats
  • Peanut Butter

Instructions

  1. Special equipment needed: a spoon
http://www.paulandangela.net/isnt-this-supposed-to-be-a-food-blog/

 

You scratch my back, I'll render yours
Some Dreams Aren't Meant to Be