Yesterday was cold. It was not just the normal January cold. The snow squeaked when I walked on it. I cut my walk much shorter than I usually walk. The thermometer at the little store read minus eight. The tips of my fingers were starting to tingle even though I had gloves on. I decided that it was time to go home.
I have often stated how much I like the cold. Yesterday was too cold. I must be more careful of what I ask for.
I came home and made what is probably my favorite dish. I made canned tomatoes over elbow macaroni with shredded Asiago cheese on it. I have cooked a great many different dishes but that dish has always been my favorite. It is something that I often ate in my Mother's kitchen, basking in the warmth of her kitchen and presence.
I wonder if anyone has ever thought of publishing a cookbook that contains the recipes of the Mothers of famous chefs? I would like to have the recipe for Gordon Ramsey's Mother's macaroni and cheese. My tastes run more towards Two Fat Ladies than they do to Adele Davis.
Today might be a good day to try stew again. To sit and eat stew with corn bread while looking at Jack Frost's etchings on the window pane is a good way to spend such a New England day. I must do something for the birds and the squirrel. Their little toes must also be tingley.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment