From Karyl’s Cook & Tell Newsletter (February 2008)
My fellow People of the Pantry and all who have ever whipped cream or beaten eggs without feeling guilty:
The State of the Kitchen is high and dry. This is a good thing. I’ll explain later.
Bur first, here are some buzzwords and phrases, beloved of pundits and politicians, that you will not be hearing in this address. One is agenda. I’m busy enough without taking time to set one. Another is prioritize. One can save a lot of time by not having to prioritize an agenda one has no time to set. Reduced spending: a hard thing if your motto is, like mine, Buy it. And why all the discussion about an economic stimulus? Why not just give everybody a cheap cup of coffee?
Before I continue, be assured that you needn’t be concerned about the demonstrators in the gallery, the ones chanting “Flour to the people.” I’m Cook & Tell, and I approve their message. I’ve instructed Security to pass them copies of the newsletter. If they aren’t already subscribers, they should be.
Now to the State of the Kitchen, which I described as high and dry. Remember my sign-off to last year’s address, predicting the future? I foresaw “more fun and games and probably a new dishwasher.” Six months later it all came true. When the rusty interior of the door of that loyal, benevolent, thirty-five-year-old Kitchen Aid proved unable to keep all the water in, the water rushed out, all over the floor. And you thought bailouts and leaks were only found in Washington.
I knew it was over between us. I rose from draining the lagoon that was the kitchen floor, recognized myself and moved that the old workhorse be moved out and replaced. The motion was seconded, there was no discussion, and the vote was unanimous in favor. Shortly thereafter, a new one was sworn in.
I now proudly preside over a lack of major appliances that need replacing, at least for the time being.
To kick off the new washer’s tour of duty, which I have no doubt will ever come close to its predecessor’s, I have introduced legislation that mandates a counter and sink clear of soiled dishes and pans before all lights are turned off, thermostats turned down and doors locked for the night. I call it No Dirty Dish Left Behind. I’m pretty tidy anyway, but this is harder than I thought it would be. There’s always that icky empty casserole dish or pan that responds favorably to an overnight soak, and sometimes the late-night ice cream bowl that really could wait for morning, couldn’t it?
I have used previous State of the Kitchen addresses to campaign for your vote, to assure furtherance of Cook & Tell’s brand of fairly reliable kitchen journalism. If I had an agenda, change would not be on it. I promise more of the same; okay, maybe a new feature here and there when old ones grow stale. I promise not to forget the mission of this publication: to cook and tell.
My personal mission for the coming year is to activate the self-cleaning function of my new stove’s oven. I may have taken the “self-cleaning” claim too seriously. Now that I’ve owned the stove for a little over a year and the oven still hasn’t cleaned itself, I can see it’s up to me.
In conclusion, to all you readers who don’t cook, I remind you of the words of the poet John Milton, slightly paraphrased: We also serve those who only sit and read.
Goodnight, and may all our appliances live forever, or as close to it as possible.
Karyl’s Headnotes
For a little Mardi Gras (hey! it’s today!) whoop-de-do in your menu this year, try this unabashedly unauthentic gumbo that doesn’t require making a dark brown roux that takes 45 minutes of stirring. To evoke the steamy heat of the bayou, add a dash of Tabasco sauce.
PANTRY SHRIMP GUMBO
Serves 8
2 T. vegetable oil
1 c. chopped onion
½ c. chopped green pepper
½ c. chopped celery
4 scallions, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
½ lb. boiled ham, chopped
1 10-oz pkg. frozen okra, defrosted and chopped (or ½ lb. fresh)
1 bay leaf
½ t. dried thyme
1 28-oz. can tomatoes, chopped
3 14.5-oz cans chicken broth
1 lb. fresh shrimp, cooked
1 c. fresh crabmeat, or 1 can, drained
½ c. chopped parsley
Heat oil in large skillet and sauté onions till translucent. Add pepper, celery, scallions, garlic. Sauté a few minutes, then add ham and okra, stirring till well blended. Transfer to 3-quart pot. Add bay leaf, thyme, tomatoes and broth and simmer 20 minutes. Add shrimp, crabmeat and parsley. Heat through.
To serve, boil enough rice for everybody, put a mound in each bowl and pour on the gumbo.
Amie’s Endnotes
As Designated Survivor of the Cook & Tell Administration, I solemnly swear to uphold its simple mission: to cook and tell. Through wildfires and droughts and floods and the turmoil and unrest in an increasingly divided world, I’ll be right here, as my mother was, delivering a newsletter dedicated to the pursuit of happiness in the kitchen, free of political opinions. There are plenty of those to go around.
Your Pantry Pundits,
The Cook & Tell Library | Recipe Index | Owner’s Manual | Notes | the micromashup
I love that t-shirt!
Ah Amie, I love this! All of it. You had me laughing right out loud, honestly. My Mom had a Kitchenaid dishwasher, and so did my Nana. Ours did the leaky door thing. Nana always told me the best thing about a kitchen is to leave it spotless at night before you go to bed. Um, I fail at that regularly...that sticky casserole or late-in-the-day baking pan... yeah, they can soak until morning. I still feel guilty and wonder if Nana is watching, but I do it anyway sometimes. And like your Mom, I am still waiting for my oven to self-clean. I wait in vain. I may actually have to get on my knees and do it. You look great, and the t-shirt is the best!