Tag Archives: Humor

A Shopping Expedition Follow Up

I had to take my mother to the doctor again today, VERY early in the morning. After I had dropped her off back at her house, I indulged myself with an extra cup of coffee at Starbucks and head over to Walmart, like I didn’t have enough fun there the other day. Well, as I was shopping for a couple a things that had been out of stock, I spotted this

OOHHHH!

OOHHHH!

Hmm, I never even imagined they would come up with a powdered teriyaki sauce. I suppose those Food Engineers can do anything with a few chemicals.  GEEZ-O!  The soy sauce is one aisle over!

 

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Let’s Go Shopping!

Since I’ve retired, I have had the luxury of now doing what I’ve wanted, I am a Home Maker. That may sound terribly old fashion in the 21st century, but I truly enjoy making a house a home. DH refers to me, lovingly, as the COO, chief operating officer. When I first started this blog, I made mention in my introduction or my ‘About’ page, that I wanted to share not only the food that I put on the table, but how it got there, aka, SHOPPING!

On Sunday I went to the local Walmart, were I only buy a few items. I frequent several stores for just certain ingredients, what the heck, I’ve got all the time. I am absolutely crazy for grocery shopping. My husband has a part time job that he goes to twice a week to keep himself busy and that’s when I head out. I have learned over the past 5 + years of living here in the middle of the desert, to have my trusty little Sony Cyber-shot in my purse at all times. Our friends and family members know already that they can’t dig into their plates until I take a picture of it. Even my mother’s traveling companions make sure that one of them takes photos of each meal that they have, all around the world, thanks ladies!

As I was going up and down each aisle, even though I know my regular haunts like the back of my hand, I make a point of looking for something that I’ve never seen before. This last excursion was no expectation. I have a chef-y friend who simply cannot stomach Spam, you know, Hawaii’s most popular meat. If she had been standing there with me, she would have been rolling on the floor with tears streaming down her cheeks.

Don’t get me wrong here, I like Spam. My mother bought one and told me that it was actually very good (she doesn’t cook any more, just nukes stuff).

 

Not far from the premade-packaged-microwaveable-shelf stable dinners, I spied this, but I couldn’t keep my hand steady enough to get a decent snapshot.

When I got home, I went to their website; I put this one in the ‘are you for real’ category. WAIT! Candwich also comes in PB&J. Oh my gravy all over my two scoops rice (that’s OMG ! in my world). REALLY?

I prefer to scratch-cook as much as I possibly can, with a few cheats here and there. DH and I are trying to change our wicked, wicked ways by cutting our salt, sugar and saturated fats. As a matter of fact, only this morning my husband said how much better he feels since our sublte change in diet.  Not that we ate poorly, we’re just taking small steps to ensure that we live a long and healthy life together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Very COLD Blurb…

Oh My Gravy all over my two scoops of rice, that’s OMG !  in my world …

DH woke me up this morning saying, ‘I’ve moved us up North, IT’S SNOWING, LOOK!’ and throws open the blinds.

WOW! I had to take a walk-about and take pictures.

HEY! I’m from Hawaii, I never saw this kinda’ stuff until about 5 years ago.

I think that it’s pretty cool as I sit here, looking out the window, watching it snow, knowing that it’ll be gone soon; snow doesn’t last for very long here in the middle of the desert.

Another Blurb …

I want to put this out into the universe…

I could NEVER, EVER and I mean not in two life times, be a Professional Cook.

My mother had not been well and was staying with DH and I for 15 days; she just went home this afternoon. My husband has been very carefully watching what he’s been eating, which meant that I was a short order cook for 15 days, three meals each day.

Oh My GAWD!!!

I just hope that I am not bringing bad karma or what we would say in Hawaii bachi on myself. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother and adore my husband, but I AM TIRED!!!

There, I put it out there.

Kahlua Cake, My Favorite, Well One Of Them Anyway

When I was still twenty-something, I went to a potluck Christmas party.

In Hawaii, food is a big thing.  Men and women take genuine pride in the dishes that they make.  It was such a blast to go to potlucks; you never knew what would be on that groaning table full of food.  When I say table, I refer to what is called the Luau-sized table.  They could easily be 20 feet long with plain white paper tapped to the top.

I remember this particular party because of this cake that was my dream come true. I’m not one for sweet, sticky, gooey icings or frostings. My sister loved it when we had cake as kids, because she could always have the frosting that I scraped off. I’d just eat the cake and not the icing, unless it’s German Chocolate cake, that’s a whole n’other story. I must have had three pieces of this wonderful Bundt cake. I sought out the maker and begged her to give me the recipe. She swore me to secrecy, that I could make this cake for other people, but I couldn’t share the recipe. My sister doesn’t feel as though it’s Christmas if I don’t make and/or send her this cake. Many years later, I was searching the Internet and found many recipes very similar to the one that I had been given.

I am not the best baker out there.  I use to bake a lot when I was younger, but as time marches on, so do our waistlines.  But Christmas is a time for indulgence. Normally, I make most of what DH and I eat from scratch, no packaged dinners and such. But this is how I learned to make this cake, and I’m sticking to it.

Kahlua Cake

1 Duncan Hines Butter Recipe cake mix (any brand will do)

1 pkg Instant Vanilla Pudding

4 Eggs

½ C Kahlua

½ C Vegetable Oil

½ C Water

 

In electric mixer, beat eggs; add the remaining cake ingredients beat on medium speed for 4 minutes. Pour into a well greased and floured Bundt pan and bake at 350⁰ for about 50 minutes. Cool in pan for 5 minutes.

 

Glaze:

1 stick (8 Tbsp) Butter

¼ C Kahlua

½ C Water

1 C Granulated Sugar

 

In a small saucepan melt the butter and then stir in the remaining ingredients; boil for 3 minutes.

Pour over the warm cake still in the Bundt pan.

Cool for 1 hour before removing.

This cake is best on the second day.

This cake is moist but not overly so. The booze in it isn’t so strong that it’s like jet fuel, burning your throat on the way down. This past Christmas, DH and I spent the holiday with very dear friends of ours and I took this cake, made up all fancy like. I still can’t believe that domed cake stand didn’t break along the way in our car. As we were leaving, Missus Dear Friend came running out, ‘you forgot this’.  I told her what My Grandmother would say, you give it back to me when you see me again, and I’ll fill it back up for you.

Just A Quick Blurb…

WAHOO!!

Finally, we have warmth!

It got up to 74⁰ today, YEAH! My toes are very happy.

Keep Your Fork, The Best Is Yet To Come

I received an email from a dear chef friend whom I see but rarely. I was touched by the content, so I saved the portion that made me cry, think, reflect upon how amazing life is and how food binds us all in one way or another.

I started to look around to find where this touching story may have begun and I found it’s thought that Roger William Thomas sent this to Ann Landers. I also found that the original title of this essay was Keep Your Fork.

forks and knives

A Woman and a Fork

There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things in order, she contacted her Pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.

She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in.

Everything was in order and the Pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.

“There’s one more thing”, she said excitedly

“What’s that?” came the Pastor’s reply

“This is very important, I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand”.

The Pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.

“That surprises you, doesn’t it?” the young woman asked.

“Well, to be honest, I’m puzzled by the request”, said the Pastor.

The young woman explained, “My grandmother once told me this story, and from that time on I have always tried to pass along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement. In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, ‘Keep your fork.’ It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming…like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance! So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder ‘What’s with the fork?’ Then I want you to tell them: Keep your fork … the best is yet to come.”

The Pastor’s eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman good-bye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She KNEW that something better was coming.

At the funeral people were walking by the young woman’s casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the Pastor heard the question, ‘What’s with the fork?’ And over and over he smiled.

During his message, the Pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. He told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either.

He was right. So the next time you reach down for your fork let it remind you, ever so gently, that the best is yet to come.