RDP Saturday: Cook

Meat Pie

Do we eat to live, or live to eat – that is the question. I think I do a bit of both. Is this now the great opportunity where we can all show our recipes for our favourite food? No, not really. The women amongst us cook as a part-time profession and the men? They also cook of course. A relation was one of those expert cooks, even belonged to a club and at home he was always swinging the cooking utensils for a special meal. I remember his wife complaining that he never cleared anything away. The food was perfect, but she was wiping down the surfaces and removing all the remainders: egg shells, packets of ingredient remainders and clearing away flour and sugar etc. But he made a perfect meal.

So what is in the photo. It just so happens that on Saturday evening I cook something myself – no cold cuts here or sandwiches. This is a ground meat pie in flaky pastry with mushroom, spiced with a little paprika and other favourites of mine. As it just arrived in the oven to be baked, you can still see the egg yolk on the pastry which gives it a nice brown finish. No, I did not make the flaky pastry myself. I buy it in the store already rolled out.

My mum could not cook, although my dad was convinced she was one of the best. As long as it was meat in a gravy with potatoes and greens (english cabbage) he was happy. That the only spice she knew was salt and pepper made no difference to dad.  They said I was a fussy eater and pity “my old man” (cockney for future husband) because he would have to live on fish fingers and chips. I was not fussy, I just did not like what she cooked.

In my later life I lived in with a Swiss-Indian family for two years and learned to make a respectable curry. I once worked for two years as a cook in a children’s nursery making breakfast, dinner and afternoon break. We were looking after the kids of working mothers, but no-one got poisoned and I never ever once cooked fish fingers.

I like cooking and have my own little dishes and Mr. Swiss and the kids (I had four in the first years of my marriage) survived. Mr. Swiss can cook if he has to. I would visit my dad once a year in England for a week and he had to play housewife when I was away. He survived but I am not sure if he actually cooked anything.

And now I have to go and see what my meat pie is doing – I can smell it cooking.

Cooking pasta

RDP Saturday: Cook

Good Morning

Dawn

It is cold, very cold with -6°C. Admittedly it has been colder, but not this Winter. It has not been snowing, probably too cold to snow, but the little bit we got yesterday is still laying around, unthawed. Luckily the roads and pavements are clear. Even the news  reported that yesterday was the coldest night of the year.

Yesterday was a shopping morning and for once there were enough parking places for all, so I did not have to complain. The store also did not have so many customers. I forget that it is only golden oldies and those that do not work that can go shopping during the day on Friday. The supermarket seemed to have a special day of multi packs. I had to get a bottle of descaler liquid as we have a lot of lime in our water. They were giving three bottles at a special price, so one heavy weight for the shopping trolley. Then there were the bulky goods like two rolls of kitchen paper. Eventually I had to sort it carefully in my various shopping bags and load it all into the car. When i arrived home I left half in the garage for my No. 1 son to carry into the apartment.

Today I will have a relaxing day, although I really want to get into town this afternoon. Yesterday I was too exhausted with the shopping and cooking lunch and compensated with a nice relaxing midday sleep, but this morning I am at home, stressless, and I hope to go. The sun has now appeared, the clouds are dispersing.

Crow

Mr. Crow and his colleagues appeared again for their morning bread and that is the big news of the day.

Since I have been driving again, I am basically only going to the same places so know the routes. Now I start thinking about other places and how to get there. This morning I spent at least half an hour (in bed) working out the best way to get to a neighbouring village. Not that I have to go there, but our local hermit lives there and these places are always useful to know. My new car has a navigator and a very modern radio, but I still do not use them. Of course the guy in the garage explained everything, and I nodded in agreement, but I never listen to the radio in the car as it distracts me from the road conditions and I have just not been bothered with the navi up to now. I know I should, but life for a golden oldie is just one big learning curve it seems to me. All these new gadgets are sometimes a little too much of a good thing.

Even opening the car door is no longer as simple as turning a key. Now you just put your hand on the door grip and the door clicks to tell you it has automatically opened. However you have to know where and how to put your hand. Yesterday in the garage I had to try different hand positions, until it worked. Of course it was my fault, but I felt like an idiot and what happens if I park the car and lock it and afterwards want to drive away again and the door does not open.  I liked my old cars with keys, because you did not have to think about how to turn the key. It just functioned.

S0 now to move on to the bathroom and life in general. Make the most of the day and take it easy. See you later.

Ducks 04.01.2019