in our little kitchen, we have exactly:
-1 usable "Dutch Oven" braising pot, of inferior quality
-1 unusable "Dutch Oven": the cheap faux-ceramic finish became, well, unfinished after the first attempt to put good color on some chicken about to be braised—hence, this pot is a “way station” for cooling soups, leftovers, and draining spinach. We are terrified of eating the paint chips, lead chips, enamel chips, metal chips that flake off with each cleaning...of coming back to the USA with liver and brain cell damage. Of not making it back into the USA at all, because our bodies won’t pass the security check points but instead, will vibrate, setting off the magnetized sensors.
-1 pasta pot.
-1 small non-stick frying pan (brought from the local "Quality Market" at home, and the only piece of equipment that is fully functional).
-1 little blue vessel used to boil water for coffee and tea, steam peas and broccoli, and melt butter and chocolate for the half-baked (literally) attempts at brownie baking.
-1 small sieve (overflow pasta inevitably tumbles out into the sink)
-4 plates, 4 sets of silverware, washed 20 times a day. Alexander likes to run around the house playing a game he’s invented: EEE! Knight! The spoons are his swords which he then hides under his mattress, in the spooky back cupboard, or behind the meant-to-be-diaphanous-but-are actually-gray-and-filthy curtains.
-A stack of plastic cups we inherited from a former Fulbrighter (some of which, coincidentally, have University of Wisconisin logos).
-A very dull butcher knife.
-A bendable serrated bread knife.
-A 12 inch x 5 inch cutting board that is already splitting in half.
-A cheese grater that does not work except to accidentally grate knuckles and thumbs.
-We’ve gone through 2 vegetable peelers—both broke on first use. So—the dull butcher knife it is.
What we don’t have?
-Measuring spoons or a cup. (All recipes are approximations which explains why my brownies won’t rise or rise too high.)
-A temperature gauge for the oven. Two settings: on "FULL BLAST" or "NOT REALLY". (Which explains why my brownies are either charred or goopey).
-Water hot enough to wash the dishes and pots and pans clean.
-Counterspace. There is a two foot workspace on which all prep work must be done. The other possibility? A precariously balanced counter-ish wedge (deceptive as it is made from the same “laminate board” as the counter) that sits on top of the radiator.
What to do? Invest in stupidly over-priced "real" furnishings, or rough it? Eat in restaurants for every meal...or attempt to be our Bakken kitchen-centered selves? The answers are pretty self-evident.
Yesterday was a particularly frustrating, perfectly ordinary day for cooking in the Bakken kitchen. I used the usable pot to attempt to make Lemon Shortbread bars. Try zesting a lemon with the dull edge of a knife. And baking shortbread cookies in a pot rather than a sheet pan or even a baking dish. Of course, without any real measuring implements, it was mostly guess work (far too much lemon topping—so the shortbread was more curd than cookie). But this also meant that as soon as possible, when the bars were just cool enough, I had to chop them out of the pot (yes, they candy-fied) so we could then transfer the Vegetable soup to that pot to reheat. Forgetting, of course, that we were also going to make Baked Ziti (with the remnants of a very passable Bolognese Sauce scraped together by trips to 4 separate supermarkets and the local Halal butcher). Which meant transferring the soup from that pot to the unusable pot. Forgetting that we had to heat up the soup for the kids—which I dumped into the pasta pot. Forgetting that we had to boil water for the pasta for the ziti. So transferring it back to the usable pot for another turnaround (feed kiddos quick!) then putting the soup back into the unusable pot. Post-ziti noodle boil, transferring the soup back to the soup pot so we could heat it up for ourselves for a first course.
Today; the leftover Baked Ziti is in the fridge in the usable pot. But I am going to make Hershey’s Cocoa Perfectly Chocolate Cake (or attempt to) which means….and then, post-cake bake, needing to use the usable pot to sauté spinach which means trying to lift the cake out of the usable pot and transfer it to…what? A puzzle once again. It's a wonder we haven't give up completely and just moved into McDonalds down the street.
Thank god, of course, we haven't. Christopher does manage to produce between eight and twenty respectable cappucinos a day (old espresso boiler, plus whisk, plus elbow grease) in that space. Alexander is robust and healthy as ever. And Sophia BEGGED for MORE SPINACH today, the kind of sign something good is happening in the kitchen in spite of all the arcane pot gymnastics.
Kerry
-1 usable "Dutch Oven" braising pot, of inferior quality
-1 unusable "Dutch Oven": the cheap faux-ceramic finish became, well, unfinished after the first attempt to put good color on some chicken about to be braised—hence, this pot is a “way station” for cooling soups, leftovers, and draining spinach. We are terrified of eating the paint chips, lead chips, enamel chips, metal chips that flake off with each cleaning...of coming back to the USA with liver and brain cell damage. Of not making it back into the USA at all, because our bodies won’t pass the security check points but instead, will vibrate, setting off the magnetized sensors.
-1 pasta pot.
-1 small non-stick frying pan (brought from the local "Quality Market" at home, and the only piece of equipment that is fully functional).
-1 little blue vessel used to boil water for coffee and tea, steam peas and broccoli, and melt butter and chocolate for the half-baked (literally) attempts at brownie baking.
-1 small sieve (overflow pasta inevitably tumbles out into the sink)
-4 plates, 4 sets of silverware, washed 20 times a day. Alexander likes to run around the house playing a game he’s invented: EEE! Knight! The spoons are his swords which he then hides under his mattress, in the spooky back cupboard, or behind the meant-to-be-diaphanous-but-are actually-gray-and-filthy curtains.
-A stack of plastic cups we inherited from a former Fulbrighter (some of which, coincidentally, have University of Wisconisin logos).
-A very dull butcher knife.
-A bendable serrated bread knife.
-A 12 inch x 5 inch cutting board that is already splitting in half.
-A cheese grater that does not work except to accidentally grate knuckles and thumbs.
-We’ve gone through 2 vegetable peelers—both broke on first use. So—the dull butcher knife it is.
What we don’t have?
-Measuring spoons or a cup. (All recipes are approximations which explains why my brownies won’t rise or rise too high.)
-A temperature gauge for the oven. Two settings: on "FULL BLAST" or "NOT REALLY". (Which explains why my brownies are either charred or goopey).
-Water hot enough to wash the dishes and pots and pans clean.
-Counterspace. There is a two foot workspace on which all prep work must be done. The other possibility? A precariously balanced counter-ish wedge (deceptive as it is made from the same “laminate board” as the counter) that sits on top of the radiator.
What to do? Invest in stupidly over-priced "real" furnishings, or rough it? Eat in restaurants for every meal...or attempt to be our Bakken kitchen-centered selves? The answers are pretty self-evident.
Yesterday was a particularly frustrating, perfectly ordinary day for cooking in the Bakken kitchen. I used the usable pot to attempt to make Lemon Shortbread bars. Try zesting a lemon with the dull edge of a knife. And baking shortbread cookies in a pot rather than a sheet pan or even a baking dish. Of course, without any real measuring implements, it was mostly guess work (far too much lemon topping—so the shortbread was more curd than cookie). But this also meant that as soon as possible, when the bars were just cool enough, I had to chop them out of the pot (yes, they candy-fied) so we could then transfer the Vegetable soup to that pot to reheat. Forgetting, of course, that we were also going to make Baked Ziti (with the remnants of a very passable Bolognese Sauce scraped together by trips to 4 separate supermarkets and the local Halal butcher). Which meant transferring the soup from that pot to the unusable pot. Forgetting that we had to heat up the soup for the kids—which I dumped into the pasta pot. Forgetting that we had to boil water for the pasta for the ziti. So transferring it back to the usable pot for another turnaround (feed kiddos quick!) then putting the soup back into the unusable pot. Post-ziti noodle boil, transferring the soup back to the soup pot so we could heat it up for ourselves for a first course.
Today; the leftover Baked Ziti is in the fridge in the usable pot. But I am going to make Hershey’s Cocoa Perfectly Chocolate Cake (or attempt to) which means….and then, post-cake bake, needing to use the usable pot to sauté spinach which means trying to lift the cake out of the usable pot and transfer it to…what? A puzzle once again. It's a wonder we haven't give up completely and just moved into McDonalds down the street.
Thank god, of course, we haven't. Christopher does manage to produce between eight and twenty respectable cappucinos a day (old espresso boiler, plus whisk, plus elbow grease) in that space. Alexander is robust and healthy as ever. And Sophia BEGGED for MORE SPINACH today, the kind of sign something good is happening in the kitchen in spite of all the arcane pot gymnastics.
Kerry
No comments:
Post a Comment