I do “pretty” for my well-being

April 1, 2020 – I do “pretty” for my well-being

         I have more time on my hands these days, as I am not running the roads to pick up groceries every few days.

         I fell into that habit when I retired and wanted the freshest of the freshest veggies and fruit and would go out to buy only what I needed for a couple days at a time.  I have stopped that during this pandemic.

         Because of stopping my every other day shopping, I am finding myself pausing in the kitchen trying to figure out what am I going to cook for dinner with what I have in the pantry.

         During that pondering, I find myself holding an empty saucepan and twirling it as I decide.  Who knew that twirling a saucepan might become a new Olympic sport.

         I noticed I didn’t like the looks of the tarnished bottoms of my old fashioned Revere Ware copper bottomed pans as it has been a while since they were polished.

         Trust me, I am one of those old fashioned homemakers, who has a special shelf under the sink to the side that has silver polish, brass polish, copper polish, and even a  half-box of old-timey laundry starch for shirts or curtains if needed.

         A few times a year I get the itch to polish the bottoms of pans, and when the copper bottoms gleam, it gives me a spiritual lift – you know the kind that can’t be bought with cash.  You know that satisfaction of washed windows or flawlessly cleaned bathroom mirrors – that smug feeling of a job “well-done."

Yes, the pans polished out nice, as usual, and those pans have been workhorses in my kitchen over many years. They are the ones I keep closest to the stove, the rest are hung up in the mudroom on the walls so that I can pick and choose.

         [An aside, just like Julia Child who had her pans hung up in her kitchen when I watched The French Chef cooking show on WGBH-TV out of Boston.  I used to sit and watch the show with my Mom as a kid.]

         These pans were a surprise Christmas gift.  I had plenty of pans, but one  Christmas I unwrapped a box and behold, three Revere Ware saucepans with covers were inside with a note from my parents.  Quality pans, really nice copper bottoms.

         The gist of their note was they found it cheaper to buy a whole set of pans instead of paying the price for open stock for one new large fry pan and one new large pot to boil spaghetti in.  It didn’t cost them anything except the postage to ship them.  It was an easy, frugal decision.

        If you’ve got a worry or you’ve got a problem – take a few quite minutes and polish the bottoms of your copper pans . . . for your well-being and just for “some pretty” that money can’t buy.

        

        

        

May 1, 2017 – Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme

        Do you remember that haunting song by Simon & Garfunkel?   I still do and it was a hit back when I was about 12 years old.   I never caught on to the subtle meaning of the subtext of the second singer; I only remember the herbs listed out and a few other phrases.

        It is strange how I remember that haunting tune when I am thinking about my herb gardens.  But, then, I happened upon the PBS series Rosemary & Thyme which is a delightful show about two professional gardeners that find dead bodies and such in the gardens they are creating or re-making.  The show’s opening theme song reminds me of those haunting notes of the Simon & Garfunkel tune.

        Yes, this is a long introduction to something that happened the other day while I was making homemade chicken soup.  But that tune plays in my head anytime I am working with herbs in the garden or in the kitchen. [Maybe it is the sign of a crazy person? Or, maybe not.]

        The grass is wet and I’ve just taken off my wet shoes and put on my dry slippers when I realize I need some fresh parsley from the garden.  Calling on my dutiful husband, who still has his day shoes on, I sweetly ask him to fetch me some parsley from the garden.  I gave him directions and point to it from the kitchen window.

        “In the center of that first row are two round clumps of green.  The one on the left is the better one, it is curly parsley. The other one is the Italian flat and it is starting to bolt.  Pick me a couple of really nice stems.”

        Out he goes as I am dicing the celery.  He comes back with two 6-inch fronds of fresh dill. 

        “That’s dill and it was on the end – not the middle,” I said flatly.    He is a good sport and goes out again after I give him basically the same instructions.

Yet, I am thinking, ‘sure he picked the only dill plant that volunteered from last year’s dill going to seed and I was nurturing it to get fresh seeds this year because the dill I have planted does want to germinate.  I’ve had drifts of re-seeded dill for years and now suddenly it doesn’t want to re-seed.  What have they hybridized the seed or something?’

        I have moved onto the dicing of the onions.  He returns with a 6 inch branch of Rosemary.  He is rubbing it under his nose,

        “This smells great!” He says.

        “That is Rosemary,” I say shaking my head and smiling at him for his second, unproductive attempt at assisting me, the cook.

        “That was on the end of the second row,” I add not getting angry or exasperated.  What would be the point of getting into a fight over fresh herbs?  Life is too short. I am actually surprised at my level of patience.

But, I am thinking, ‘Never ask a man to do woman’s work . . . it is simply better to just do it yourself . . . yes, I do need to move all my herbs to the garden off the patio. Now that I have those new patio pavers installed I can simply walk out, even in my bare feet, to fetch fresh herbs.’

        “Then, I can’t find it,” He replies and sits down in his favorite chair to watch golf.  

        I am now scraping the carrots and then dicing them fine.  A thought occurs to me – way too much dill and too much rosemary for this one pot of homemade chicken soup.  What would be the point of going out to get fresh parsley now?  I won’t dice these herbs to put in the soup or it will be too strong.  I guess I will simply tie them into a “bouquet garni” like Julia Child . . . or was it Martha Stewart? Doesn’t matter, I will be Chef Tell today.

        Eventually, all the ingredients in the pot have come to a slow simmer and I toss the fresh, fragrant bouquet garni, tied with a bit of string, on top with a flourish and pop the lid on. 

We will go with the flow, go with only dill and rosemary.  I bet he won’t be able to tell the difference.

        Then I notice I am softly singing.

“Are you going to Scarborough Fair?

. . . . a true love of mine.”