Gosh this blog has turned into such domestic drivel. I really need to get out more. Or else I could just start pontificating about political ads or my supposed liberal religious agenda or some such nonsense. But for now? This entry is about rice.
A few months ago I cleaned out my pantry and it's always a little shocking to discover things in the pantry that I don't remember buying. It's kind of fun to find that bonus box of rotini you had no idea was there or that extra jar of mayonnaise - but it also signals to me that I have probably overdone it in the grocery buying department. First world over-consumption and all.
So I decided to put the brakes on the grocery buying for a while and try to use up the things in my pantry. This requires an entirely different type of supper-time strategy. It's like trying to eat more seasonally. You have to craft a meal around ingredients you're staring at rather than deciding what sounds good to you and then pulling the items together. (You are saying to yourselves, "duh Lisa, it doesn't take a master chef to figure that gem of kitchen wisdom out.") But it's such an opposite creative process in my mind. It's like pulling a McGuyver every meal. Here is one wilted carrot, a piece of string, a can of cream of celery soup, a handful of Swiss cheese, and some peanut butter. Now - CREATE!
Frankly, I'm amazed at the variety of meals I've created with what I have on hand because when I first looked in that pantry I was all, "there is nothing in here to eat!" And I'm surprised at how much food I clearly had all along, considering how long it's been since I actually went "grocery shopping."
Now to be fair, I have a freezer full of beef and chicken thanks to my parents. And I have had a lot of fresh garden produce up to this point along with everything my mother and I canned. So I know that's a huge advantage right there. (And I really have tried to eat more seasonally this summer along with using things in my pantry - which has been fun.) I have another huge advantage right now in that I'm not working outside the home. So I have a lot of extra time and energy to think about how to put my suppers together, although I don't think my suppers are actually taking any more time to prepare than before.
Here is the list of staples I have been purchasing:
Coffee (for obvious reasons)
Milk (to go with my coffee)
Butter (because life's not worth living without it)
Onions (because nothing's worth eating without them)
I ran out of pasta and potatoes ages ago. But what I do have is a large bag of rice. And dear sweet mother Mary, that rice WILL NOT END. We have had nothing but rice for weeks it seems. Chicken and rice, curry and rice, hamburger gravy over rice, rice pudding, rice soup, etc... And I feel like I have only put the tiniest dent in that jar of rice. Every day when Brian gets home for lunch I ask, "well guess what we'll be having for supper tonight?" I'm trying really hard to be thankful for this rice and its apparent longevity. But frankly, I am riced out.
*Update. I started writing this entry on Saturday and Monday I broke down. I was laying in bed watching the Today show to wake up when an Olive Garden commercial came on - and I found myself completely overcome with desire for what I saw. I didn't have any lessons because of fall break and I had received a little money for a funeral I helped at on Sunday and I knew where that time and money was headed. I went to the grocery store, loaded up on supplies and made an Italian feast for supper. And maybe it was because of all the rice we have been eating, but Brian and I declared it the best meal I have ever prepared. I wish I could tell you that the meal did not involve using 2.5 sticks of butter. But it did. And it was delicious. So if the rice has accomplished giving Brian and I a better appreciation for food again, then it has been well worth it. And if you'd like a super tasty chicken piccata recipe, click on this link. Bon Appetit!
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
Slumber Party Friday Night
Yay! It's slumber-party-Friday-night!
**This is a total aside. Why can't people seem to spell "yay" correctly? I see "yeah" (which is an informal way of saying "yes") and I see "yea" (which is an affirmative vote) when I know that what they are meaning to say is "yay." Nobody seems familiar with "yay" (which is an exclamation of triumph or congratulations).
And now I'm going to have to watch my grammar and spelling like a hawk lest I be found guilty of some vocabulary faux pas which shall render me a hypocritical fool. (And I know starting a sentence with "and" is totally wrong and yet I love to do it because it's how I speak.)
Back to slumber-party-Friday-night. It's my favorite night of the week. Brian and I developed this little tradition about a year ago, maybe even longer. This is a development that came about after we purchased our totally awesome napping couch. One Friday night we were watching movies and we didn't want the fun to end but Brian, party-pooper that he is, informed me that he didn't think he could make it through another movie in its entirety without falling asleep. So we decided we would start that movie anyway and just sleep on the couch so that we could drift off when the mood struck us without the drudgery of getting up and going to bed. I exclaimed, with the joy of a six-year-old, "It's like a SLUMBER PARTY!" And it was such fun that we now do it every Friday night. We have named it, you guessed it, "Slumber-Party-Friday-Night" and I'm not the only one who calls it that. Brian came home from work today wanting to take a nap because he wanted to "be ready for Slumber-Party-Friday-Night."
It's like a little vacation from the week for us. It signals that the next day is not one of forced responsibilities but a day that we will live on our own terms. We can get up when we want, we can do, or not do, whatever we choose - it's just totally delicious fun.
So tonight we will be snuggling under some cozy afghans, pulling up the ottoman so Reggie will have a place to sleep near us, turning on a scary movie (only because it's October - November 1st I go back to hating them), fighting over foot space, and then peacefully falling asleep with the sweet promise of a free day ahead of us. Ahhhhh. Sweet dreams everyone.
**This is a total aside. Why can't people seem to spell "yay" correctly? I see "yeah" (which is an informal way of saying "yes") and I see "yea" (which is an affirmative vote) when I know that what they are meaning to say is "yay." Nobody seems familiar with "yay" (which is an exclamation of triumph or congratulations).
And now I'm going to have to watch my grammar and spelling like a hawk lest I be found guilty of some vocabulary faux pas which shall render me a hypocritical fool. (And I know starting a sentence with "and" is totally wrong and yet I love to do it because it's how I speak.)
Back to slumber-party-Friday-night. It's my favorite night of the week. Brian and I developed this little tradition about a year ago, maybe even longer. This is a development that came about after we purchased our totally awesome napping couch. One Friday night we were watching movies and we didn't want the fun to end but Brian, party-pooper that he is, informed me that he didn't think he could make it through another movie in its entirety without falling asleep. So we decided we would start that movie anyway and just sleep on the couch so that we could drift off when the mood struck us without the drudgery of getting up and going to bed. I exclaimed, with the joy of a six-year-old, "It's like a SLUMBER PARTY!" And it was such fun that we now do it every Friday night. We have named it, you guessed it, "Slumber-Party-Friday-Night" and I'm not the only one who calls it that. Brian came home from work today wanting to take a nap because he wanted to "be ready for Slumber-Party-Friday-Night."
It's like a little vacation from the week for us. It signals that the next day is not one of forced responsibilities but a day that we will live on our own terms. We can get up when we want, we can do, or not do, whatever we choose - it's just totally delicious fun.
So tonight we will be snuggling under some cozy afghans, pulling up the ottoman so Reggie will have a place to sleep near us, turning on a scary movie (only because it's October - November 1st I go back to hating them), fighting over foot space, and then peacefully falling asleep with the sweet promise of a free day ahead of us. Ahhhhh. Sweet dreams everyone.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Pride Goeth Before A Load of Laundry
Last week I finally ran out of laundry detergent. I had been planning for months to attempt making my own because I am SICK AND TIRED of spending so much money on laundry detergent (I do not like what it does to my grocery bill). And it sounded kind of fun in a productive "look what I can do" sort of way.
I got the recipe from the Grocery Cart Challenge lady. (Check it out here.) I gathered my supplies and whipped up my batch. I was so proud of what I had done.
Then I went to my parents' home for supper to celebrate my dad's birthday. And my mother just always has to one-up me. Here's how it went down. I informed them that I had made said laundry detergent and my mom asked how I did it. I proceeded to tell the family how I had grated up a bar of fels naptha soap, dissolved it in hot water, added washing soda and borax and stirred the whole thing together.
My brother said, "Oh, well Mom used to make laundry detergent." I had no memory of this so I asked her how she had done it - wanting to compare recipes and all - and she responded: "Oh, I kept all my kitchen grease, cooked it to remove impurities, combined that with lye, waited for it to harden and then ground it into a powder."
Huh, so she created soap and I basically just mixed some soaps together. I'm not feeling quite that excited about my detergent now; cheap lazy soap that it is. No blood, sweat, tears, and planning required for this load of bologna.
Someday I'll find a way to beat that woman at her game.
I got the recipe from the Grocery Cart Challenge lady. (Check it out here.) I gathered my supplies and whipped up my batch. I was so proud of what I had done.
Then I went to my parents' home for supper to celebrate my dad's birthday. And my mother just always has to one-up me. Here's how it went down. I informed them that I had made said laundry detergent and my mom asked how I did it. I proceeded to tell the family how I had grated up a bar of fels naptha soap, dissolved it in hot water, added washing soda and borax and stirred the whole thing together.
My brother said, "Oh, well Mom used to make laundry detergent." I had no memory of this so I asked her how she had done it - wanting to compare recipes and all - and she responded: "Oh, I kept all my kitchen grease, cooked it to remove impurities, combined that with lye, waited for it to harden and then ground it into a powder."
Huh, so she created soap and I basically just mixed some soaps together. I'm not feeling quite that excited about my detergent now; cheap lazy soap that it is. No blood, sweat, tears, and planning required for this load of bologna.
Someday I'll find a way to beat that woman at her game.
Today's "Living the Life of Riley" Moment is Brought to you by...
Reggie the Dog
Huh, certainly seems fitting doesn't it? I'm so glad I made the bed for him today so that he would have somewhere comfortable to enjoy his afternoon nap.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Evils of Gambling
So I'm not going to go gambling with Brian anymore because he is a HORRIBLE influence. First of all, he took me to a casino. So there you go. Bad influence. Secondly, he is a horrible gambler. I play penny slots and I have a method. I walk around. I let the machines speak to me. If they don't speak to me I don't play them. Sometimes I try a machine and two pulls into it I realize it must have been speaking to someone else. I pull my money out and I walk away. When I have won a dollar or two (it's penny slots remember) I pull my money out and walk away looking for a new whispering machine. And then, before I know it, I have gingerly turned my $20 into $34.57.
Brian sits down at a machine and tries to manhandle it into giving him money. He doesn't care about what the machine may or may not be saying to him (typical man) because he's got some words for that machine! He sits there and pushes that button over and over willing it to take him to the sought after bonus round where he thinks the real money will be made. And if the machine doesn't take him there immediately he thinks he's in too deep (you know, $2.50 or so) to just get up and walk away and therefore must keep playing on said machine until he wins and recoups his money. Oh he has a sickness. And that is how Brian aggressively turns his $20 into $8.33. I remind him often that I am clearly a better gambler than he is. He disagrees. But the money doesn't lie.
And then I don't know what happened. He got in my head. He manhandled my brain like he manhandles those machines, except I wasn't as strong as those machines. One minute I tell him we should cash out, take our $15 profit and go get some lunch. 20 minutes later we walked out empty handed. NADA. So, I'm not going to go gambling with Brian anymore.
Brian sits down at a machine and tries to manhandle it into giving him money. He doesn't care about what the machine may or may not be saying to him (typical man) because he's got some words for that machine! He sits there and pushes that button over and over willing it to take him to the sought after bonus round where he thinks the real money will be made. And if the machine doesn't take him there immediately he thinks he's in too deep (you know, $2.50 or so) to just get up and walk away and therefore must keep playing on said machine until he wins and recoups his money. Oh he has a sickness. And that is how Brian aggressively turns his $20 into $8.33. I remind him often that I am clearly a better gambler than he is. He disagrees. But the money doesn't lie.
And then I don't know what happened. He got in my head. He manhandled my brain like he manhandles those machines, except I wasn't as strong as those machines. One minute I tell him we should cash out, take our $15 profit and go get some lunch. 20 minutes later we walked out empty handed. NADA. So, I'm not going to go gambling with Brian anymore.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)