Pining away

It’s not that my kitchen is so great.  It’s narrow and there’s little to no counter space and our stove is wonky and the fridge and freezer are too small.

But it’s mine and it’s mostly functional. and I miss it dearly.

See in this immense heat, it has become a place that I go only to get cold drink after cold drink and in the late evening, take out some salad or cold chicken to eat because really, you’ve got to eat something.

I miss the serenity cooking gives me.  Even when things are going badly with a dish, there is always hope that it can be saved.  I love the zen mind that happens when I’m chopping, stirring and whisking.  It’s like waves lapping against the shore.  It’s peace and quiet.  Mostly, anyway.

It is only the beginning of July and it’s been weeks of such intense heat, even my appetite has faltered (good lord, will it never end?).  I am trying to accept that it’s just too hot to cook and enjoy restaurant fare for my food book clubs and restaurant reviews.  I am trying to enjoy the “extra” time that I have now that I’m not in the kitchen for 2-4 hours a night.  I am trying really, really hard.

But it’s not working.

I guess that’s how I know it’s serious, that it’s complete and utter love, that it’s something that while I can live without it now, I can’t live without it forever.

Once that cool weather hits, you’ll be lucky to find me doing anything else.  I’ve got lists in my mind of dishes I want to conquer, pies I want to try and bake and meals that I want to create to sell to a nearby cafe.

And for now, I will try to be patient while the sun pours in our windows, heating up the joint and giving our cat various placed to sprawl until 9 p.m.  I will begrudgingly have salads and sandwiches and cold chicken (pictured above) for dinner as sweat pools in the crease of my arm.

But I’m telling you, that first hit of crisp, cool air – the place is going to be stacked to the ceiling with homemade food.

Just try and stop me.

Scrabble night – part 3

I had to throw most of the chicken out.

We tried to whittle down the mountain of poultry that had taken over the fridge, but it was a feat way beyond us. We needed my old gang of cadets – teenage boys that could drink 3 bags of milk and consume dinner plus 2 sandwiches for “dessert” in a single sitting.

I used to feel so guilty about having to throw out food. After all, not only had I carefully shopped (read: put a lot of time into it), I had lovingly spent umpteen hours prepping and chopping, sauteeing and broiling. But I have come to realize that in today’s crazybusy world, you can’t plan the way you used to. Some nights I am certain (and in the mood) I’ll cook and instead I have to do a restaurant review or a meeting runs late and I grab something where I am. And some nights things go awry, a phone call goes well into the night or a neighbour drops by and we open a bottle of wine and, well, dinner gets waylaid.

Since then, because of the heat,  we’ve had a lot of simple foods:

- corn on the cob

- salads topped with organic sprouts and sunflower seeds

- stir frys, pasta, sandwiches. – anything that doesn’t require the stove to be on too long

The most complex dishes I’ve made lately are veal scallopini and stuffed pork chops.

Most disappointing.

Especially since I’ve had the food book clubs and been dying to get to the stove to make some of the dishes we’ve been reading about.

It is 19 degrees tonight. Cold enough for 3/4 sleeves and a jacket.

Cold enough to cook.

Hell’s kitchen – part 1

Well, it’s been awhile, hasn’t it?

That’s because it’s been so freakin’ hot out that in our little apartment, cooking anything on the stove means creating a sweat lodge in our very own home.

As you know, I tried there for awhile, drops of sweat plopping into my casseroles and roast dinners., but once it hit 36 degrees, I had to concede like and eat like sane folks – which meant little or no cooking.

Which hits me hard. It’s during these times of stove moratoriums that I want to cook and create more than anything else.

So I shopped instead, hoping that would sate me. I bought ingredients for salads and cold plates and as many interesting beverages as our fridge would allow.

But it turned out that what I thought would never happen, did.

We lost our appetites.  We ate maybe one small plate a day and spent the rest quenching our neverending thirst.  It’s the first time in probably close to a decade that I didn’t want to eat.

Eww.

Thankfully, after a solid week of intense heat, sleepless nights and lack of appetite, it cooled down and things resumed back to regular scheduled programming.

The heat is on

It was over 30 degrees today (For you Americans, that’s like 100 and something), so I had convinced myself that I would just assemble some salads for dinner.  At most, I would get a piece of fish or slice up some chicken to go alongside them.

But as always, I got caught up in the excitement of creating something, with the possibility of it being memorable and/or fabulous, so by the time I had reached the grocery store, I was a quivering hot mess of enthusiasm.

Here’s what I decided on:

Crudites of carrots, yellow pepper, celery, including cucumber spears drizzled with lime juice and sprinkled with chili peppers

Arugula salad with warm, sauteed wild mushrooms

Fresh salmon with pasta and peas in a homemade, dill cream sauce

Broiled prosciutto-wrapped asparagus

It was pretty fantastic, though next time when I’m making the cream sauce, I’ll add a little stock to thin it out.  Somehow though, the pasta took to it extremely well.

As did my fella.

I considered making a dessert too, but I’m not quite there yet – still haven’t got back my fingerprints yet from the forever-to-be-known-as “chocolate incident.”

There’s mango gelato in the freezer if the boy gets a hankering…

Longing

Although I haven’t eaten out every night for the past 2 weeks, it sure feels that way.

Between book club meetings at restaurants, my fella’s birthday dinner out, dinner at a new diner with my Mom, I’ve been out a lot.  A ton.  More than I’d like to, but that’s what happens sometimes – no matter how carefully I plan my schedule, there is always a week or two where everything smushes up against one another, leaving me craving to cook at the stove like many women leap outta their bodies for a piece of chocolate.  Then when I was home, I made simple food: soups, salads and pasta.  Quick things I could do in between writing, editing and the various events that have made the last couple of weeks a frenzy.

Last night at dinner with lovely colleagues of my fella, the restaurant “reflected the seasons and regional Pugliese cooking.”  Over neatly procured appetizers and handmade pasta, we talked about restaurants, cooking, barbecuing and of course, work.

What got me is that while our evening was filled with fun and laughter, I felt like the food didn’t live up to the hype.  This restaurant, after all, was supposed to be the “real deal” but actually it was just boring  fare that you could make at home.  You absolutely could.

When we got home, I poured over cooking magazines and some new  recipes I had collected and I so wanted to stay up, cooking my little heart out.

Instead, I went to bed like the responsible adult I am and will try and patiently wait until I can be at the stove again.  At this point, it’s looking like Saturday might be the first chance I get.

In the meantime, I am going to dream and swoon and think about all that I am going to make once I get the few precious hours I need.

I can’t wait.