The View from My Kitchen Window

The View from My Kitchen Window

Sometimes, when looking out my kitchen window, I see grass that needs to be cut, a dog to feed, a porch to sweep… in other words… responsibilities.  There are times, too, when I look at life as a whole in that same way.   It’s all drudgery and responsibilities.  I focus on all the things that are not working exactly as I planned.

Today is a beautiful almost-Fall day in Mississippi.  After a few cooler days, the temperature is back up to the low 80s, but there is a constant breeze and just enough clouds to keep the sun’s heat at bay.   

On days like this, I am ashamed of the times I see only the bad.  Everywhere I look today there is something and something else and something more to make me thankful.  I am truly an imperfect child of God who is blessed has absolutely no room to complain.

Cooking, for me, can go this way too.  There are times that it is pure drudgery and other times that I love every minute of cooking – particularly for my family.  I come from a long line of cooks.   When I think of childhood, I think of gravel roads, wood burning stoves, the smell of wood as my Daddy worked on one thing or another, and my Mom in the kitchen.  I think of Granny Sis (my Mom’s Mom) and her seven-layer chocolate fudge cake.  I remember Big Ole Mamaw (my Dad’s Mom) and a big pan of homemade biscuits. These are the things that make me smile. 

Will Nicholas (my 14-year-old) have these same fond memories of eating at home with family?  I really don’t know.  But he recently gave me a very good memory.  One of Nic's favorite meals is ham steak with red eye gravy, scalloped potatoes, and yeast rolls.  One day this week, I made chicken salad for supper which he doesn’t really like.  So, I had left-over ham steak and served him that with some left-over macaroni and cheese plus sliced cucumber with a little cup of ranch dressing for dipping… such a simple meal.  And his simple response, “Mom, you are awesome,” made my heart soar. 

Today, when I look out my kitchen window, I see hope.  A beautiful 30-foot tall gum tree blowing in the wind, sunshine that seems to light each leaf individually, and wide open spaces... all this gives my heart a reason to remember the good things.  Lord, I pray, that I can see more of the good in every single day, every single person, ever single situation, for You told me, “all things work to the good of God’s chosen.”  With that, there is no room for complaints.

Red Eye Gravy – Is more of a method than a recipe.  Basically, once you cook the ham steak, use some left-over black coffee to deglaze the pan.  Pour over steak.  (Some people add butter and water or beef stock; I find that totally unnecessary!) 

Scalloped Potatoes

5 medium red potatoes
4 tablespoons butter
4 tablespoons flour
2 cups milk

Salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 350°.   Wash potatoes well; peel and slice thin.  Melt butter in a saucepan over medium heat; stir in flour.  Add milk and whisk well.  Continue to cook until thick and bubbly.  Layer ½ potatoes in a 3-quart glass baking dish separating potatoes.   Season to taste with salt and pepper and cover with ½ sauce.  Repeat layers.  Bake covered for 40 minutes.  Uncover and make another 15 to 20 minutes or until potatoes are tender. 

Note: When I’m in a hurry (when am I NOT in a hurry?), I boil the potatoes until they are just slightly soft, but not cooked through.  Then I slice them with skins for this recipe.  It cuts the cooking time by about 20 to 25 minutes. 

Yeast Rolls

1 cup milk
2 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon sugar
¾ teaspoon salt
1 package active dry yeast
2 tablespoons water
1 egg, beaten
2 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
Melted Butter

Scald milk; stir in 2 tablespoons butter, sugar and salt until butter is melted and sugar is fully dissolved.  Set aside to cool.  Sprinkle yeast over 2 tablespoons lukewarm water.  When milk mixture has cooled to lukewarm, stir into yeast mixture.  Stir in egg.  Stir in 1 to 1½ cups flour then turn onto floured board.  Knead in more flour using just enough to form a dough that can be easily handled.  Coat a bowl with melted butter.  Place dough in bowl, then flip over and cover.  Let dough rise in a warm place until  it has doubled, about 1 hour.  When doubled, pinch 1-inch balls from dough.  Make a tight circle using your thumb and index finger.  Force dough through the hole making a smooth round ball.  Place on greased cookie sheet.  Repeat until all dough is used; allow to rise again until doubled (about 40 minutes).   Bake in a 425° oven about 20 minutes.  Remove from pan immediately.  Serve hot.  

What's in your refrigerator?

When I was young and newly married, I would look inside my refrigerator and think, "I do not know how my Mom has so much stuff in her fridge." I thought mine would never be full. I can remember going to the grocery store with a $100 dollar bill and fretting over everything I put in the cart. I even carried a calculator with me so that, as each item was finally chosen, I would enter the amount plus a little more for tax into the tiny calculator.

At the checkout counter, I would, again, mentally add every item as I put it on the belt. The dollar total would climb and climb as the person checking me out scanned each item. I would fret and fret thinking, "Did I forget to put that in the calculator? Did that milk scan for more than I thought it was? What if it goes over $100?" By the time my groceries were all scanned and it was time to pay, I was a nervous wreck. Still, with these $100 trips to the grocery store, my fridge was never full like my Mom’s and my Mother-in-law’s and my Grandmother’s.

The years passed (quickly, I might add), and one day as the leftovers were being put away, someone said, "There’s no room in the fridge!" It took more than 15 years of living outside my parents home, but, finally, my refrigerator is full.

It seems that anytime my sons or their friends walk past the kitchen, they open the refrigerator to have a look. They may or may not actually get anything out of it. Maybe it gives them comfort just to see what’s inside. Yes, life is good, because the fridge is full. It makes me realize that when I go to Mom’s house, I just about always have a look in her fridge. I may or may not actually get anything out of it, but, I guess, it makes me feel like I’m home to see her refrigerator full. Besides, I have to see if she has any left-over macaroni and cheese I can snatch.

It’s funny to me that we can both have refrigerators so full yet have such different things inside. My Mom has blocks of cheese, liverwurst, Blue Plate mayonnaise, whole milk, apple jelly... while we have pre-shredded cheese, ham, Kraft mayonnaise, 2% milk, grape jelly... and, of course, a lot more. I’ll bet money that Mom doesn’t have worms in her fridge, but, yes, the worms that Ryan and Nicholas use to fish are there in the bottom of my fridge safely tucked away from the food. One thing Mom and I do have in common... Our fridge just about always has a supply of left-overs inside.

The left-overs in my fridge today are from dinner last night -- Fancy Filet Mignon, Coconut Pasta and Shrimp, and sliced cucumbers -- plus the last slice of Coconut Cake from Sunday. Someone will come along and eat those, but more will soon take their place.

The fridge is full... Life is good.

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What is Bunco?

"What IS Bunco?" I get asked that question quite frequently – mostly from men. The whole thing, I think, seems very mysterious to men. Why do all those women get together every month? What do they do while they are there? Why is there so much laughing involved?

At first glance, Bunco is a game. The rules for Bunco varies between the many, many groups around the country. Basically it is a dice game played in groups of four people. The four people at the table roll three dice for a particular number. Points are scored based on how many of that number are rolled. If you roll three of a number, you score a BUNCO. When someone at the head table gets to 21 points or the first time a BUNCO is rolled, the round ends and everyone at the table scores a "win" or a "loss" based on their score when play stops. After three rounds, the losing team moves to another table and play is resumed. There are other rules and other variations, but this gives the gist of the game.

Now that you know a little about the game, I will tell you the REAL answer to, "What is Bunco?". Bunco is an excuse — an excuse to get together with my girl friends once a month... an excuse to talk and laugh and cut-up... an excuse to get out of the house or, when my turn to host comes around, an excuse to have friends over. It seems that my friends and I are forever promising to"get together soon" or "do lunch" or "cookout sometime," but life gets in the way. We are all busy with our families and our work and the convenient time to get together just never happens.

So, on Bunco night, we all gather... to play a game, yes... to win prizes, yes... but also to catch-up on each other’s lives, to tell stories about what our children have been up to now, to brag or complain – whichever is most applicable – about our spouses or boyfriends.

For me, hosting Bunco is also an excuse to try-out new recipes on a new batch of people. Thursday night was Bunco at my house so I tested Fun Bacon Cheeseburger Roll-ups, Upside-Down Pan Pizza, Strawberry Pudding Dessert, and Almond Joy Pie. I served them with peas from last year's garden and okra and tomatoes cooked together. The test recipes were a success, and judging from my hubbies comments about the noise level (he was hiding out in the bedroom) a good time was had by all.

--Sheila

(Sheila Simmons is Publisher at Great American Cookbooks • Their newest publications Game for All Seasons Cookbook and Tennessee Hometown Cookbook will be available soon. If you are a Bunco fan, visit their Bunco website www.weplaybunco.com; there is a very convenient scorecard available for download that includes numbers across the bottom to keep-up with your score.)

Bicycles, Honeysuckle, and Supper

Do you remember Honeysuckle? I do, but until yesterday I had not thought about it in years. Roger, Ryan, Nicholas and I were enjoying a late-evening bicycle ride down the “main” (they are all country roads where we live) road beside the house. It was a warm, but not too hot, 70 degrees with a light wind – perfect for a bicycle ride.

As man of the house, Roger was out in front and yelled back with “can you smell that?” Just as I was about to ask “what,” I caught the scent, too. That aroma of honeysuckle growing beside the road brought back many, many memories at once.

I can remember being just about my youngest son’s age (Nicholas is 8) and riding my bicycle down the gravel roads around my house. I was always barefooted wearing shorts and a t-shirt and more often than not at least one of my many first cousins was riding along with me. We’d take frequent breaks to sit along the side of the road in the shade of the big trees, and, of course, taste the honeysuckle. I don’t think I’ve had a single gourmet meal in my adulthood that tasted as good as that honeysuckle did when I was eight years old.

Back in the present, Roger and Ryan had ridden ahead in a competition to see who could ride fastest. Nicholas and I were riding slow and easy, enjoying the weather, and talking about our day. Nic suddenly pulled off, dropped his bicycle in the grass, and asked, “Have you ever tried these, Momma?” as he reaches a honeysuckle bush beside the road.

It makes me happy to know that a new generation is enjoying the small pleasure of honeysuckle. So, we sat, Mother and son, in the shade of the big trees beside the road and tasted honeysuckle. I noticed that Nicholas would pick the delicate flower, break off the bottom, and suck the nectar as through a straw. This is, of course, a legitimate way to taste honeysuckle.

However, I earned a few “mommy points” by showing him the way I learned as a child. You pick the flower and gently break off the bottom keeping the little stem in the center intact. You then gently pull that stem out the bottom and the “ball” at the top brings the nectar through. When you gently touch this to your tongue, it’s honeysuckle heaven.

If you don’t know the pure and simple pleasure of honeysuckle, it’s not too late. Take your kids or grandkids (or a neighbor’s kid if you have to) on a bicycle ride (or a walk or even a car ride), locate some honeysuckle, and take time to sit beside the road and taste the sweet nectar. You won’t regret it.

We spent so much time on our bicycle ride, that I had to do a quick supper when we returned to the house. I had some catfish fillets in the freezer, so I thawed them quickly and made this Hot and Sweet Baked Catfish. We enjoyed it over rice, with corn nuggets (most of which the kids, mine and three or four neighbor boys, ate right out of the bowl while everything else was cooking), and Okra & Tomatoes (frozen, sliced okra with a can of petite-dice tomatoes, a touch of sugar, and a little thyme... and a little time). It was delightful follow-up to an enjoyable evening.

Sheila Simmons, Publisher • Great American Cookbooks • Visit our database for more great recipes. • Submit YOUR recipe to be considered for publication.