"Punch"

Punch: orange juice, lemonade, 7-up, and sherbet.  I know this because we have to make it at work once a year.  Nobody told me I'd have to make punch when I went to college.  There's so many things nobody ever warned me about, and I bet men never have to make punch.  It's still such an unfair world.

Punch: wrap your thumb around your other fingers before punching anyone.  Otherwise you might break your thumb on impact.  I punched a wall once when I was sleeping and broke my hand.  Try to avoid punching walls.

Punch: Pulcinella, a silly, but violent, puppet nicknamed Mr. Punch of Punch and Judy.

Illustration Friday was late giving a word for the week, and I can only wonder why "punch" is the word the week of Thanksgiving?  I assume somebody punched someone in a Black Friday shopping event or maybe somebody doesn't get along with their relatives.

I'm distilling some rather horrible apple wine into something better instead.  I froze the wine, and since alcohol doesn't freeze, I'm letting it drip out of the chunk of ice.  This would all be great, but since I keep drinking the alcohol there isn't much in the glass to prove my efforts.

I also made turkey soup.  I'm adept at cooking, and there's a pleasure in that proficiency -- as long as nobody makes me do it.  I pulled turnips from the garden and feel pleased about that too.  My dog was thrilled to lick the turkey pan and hovered in hope that I'd drop something tasty.

The only way to get good at stuff is to do it, and to do it a lot.  That goes for art or cooking or anything else.  It helps to have an affinity for what you're doing, but you can learn how to do anything you want to do.  Then study and practice, practice, practice.

I wasn't thrilled about cooking when I was a kid.  It was another chore, and I wasn't into any more work.  It wasn't until I was alone in the kitchen and opened all the spices and smelled each of them that I started seeing possibilities.  The aromas were like colors to me and I could paint with them to enjoy dinner more.

Don't worry about not being good at something from the beginning.  I think too many people quit before they really start at things.  Just try.  Laugh at your failures, learn something from the experience, and try again.

The apple wine is the first time I've distilled anything.  I used a wrong shaped container and ended up with a slushy mess on my counter with my first effort since the whole thing just slid out of the tapered jar in a chunk.  Oh well, stuff happens.  Sometimes experimentation is messy.  In this case, it's also tasty -- at least tastier than the wine was.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving filled with love and good food!

Congratulations to the Flannerys for their brand new bouncing baby boy! 

"Slow"

I said something was “slower than molasses in wintertime” and my girlfriend asked “what’s molasses?”  A: a viscous by-product of sugar refinement (Southern variation sorghum, British variation black treacle).  Cooking tip… instead of brown sugar, which gets hard if you don’t use it often, add molasses to regular white sugar when a recipe calls for brown sugar.

Sometimes I wish I still lived in a world when knowing about molasses meant something and times were slow enough for me to make cookies from scratch.  Oh alright, I could make them today if I felt like it, but do I need any more cookies?  I just want some of my obsolete skills to be valued.

Which leads me to one of those seasonal push-me pull-me moments.  Sometimes I like to cook, but I don’t like it when I’m expected to cook.  Cooking can get expensive and I dislike it when men won’t pull their weight in the kitchen.  But then, I’m actually pretty good at cooking, and I like to feel appreciated. 

What to do, what to do?

Last week I made clam chowder.  I noticed a surprising amount of it was missing the next day.  I asked my brother if he’d eaten it.  Yes.  Did you like it?  YES.  Good.  Even better that he washed the dishes.  See, that’s all I really need for positive reinforcement.  I might make clam chowder again sometime.  This brother has always known how to work me.  I might let him have some cranberries and non-dairy pumpkin pie this week.

I work around some staff and volunteers whose life work has been cooking for their loving families.  They’re the last of a dying breed I think.  Most people seem to “make” cookies by scooping out pre-made batter from the grocery store, plopping it on a baking sheet, bake 10 minutes, and general acclaim by the recipients.  I’m pretty sure that my cookies with butter and eggs will make my loved ones live longer.

When my grandma was alive, she spent most of her time in the kitchen.  She didn’t have to do all the other stuff that I have to do in a day, at least in my lifetime.  When she was young she was a single parent had to work and support her sons, and I’m sure that was very hard.  After she married my grandpa I bet she was grateful to spend days perfecting her recipe for white cake.

It’s not all about cakes and cookies either.  I told my brother I had a yen for greens.  What kind?  All kinds -- turnip greens, mustard, collards.  I got collards.  They were in the fridge the next day and I spent who knows how long washing, chopping, simmering, and especially thinking that I have to be careful about out loud yens if my wish fulfillment was going to work out this well.  I suggested that a free-range turkey might be a good idea.  We’ll see if that shows up.

My view is that we lived better when we ate better, and best yet when we ate together.  I hope everyone has a warm and loving Thanksgiving this week, and for those of you outside the US, please join us in the best of holidays when the point of everything is to slow down long enough be with people you love, sharing gratitude for all of the good that comes into our lives.  And yeah, good food :)