snowangel

My OB/GYN's office has a variation on this (...Have a Gun) on a poster that is prominently displayed behind the receptionists. One of the funniest things I ever saw was an interview where someone desribed PMS as swinging wildly between Pardon My Sobbing and Pass My Shotgun. Just wait until you hit the mid-40's. Wicked. I got Paul out of bed one night at 11:00 pm to go to the store to buy bacon and ice cream. He protested, but decided that the kids really need a dad and health insurance .

Frittata.

Use a timer for everything, and if I'm going to be out of earshot of the timer, stick it in my pocket. No more burnt stuff while I get side tracked by a good book, playing games with the kids, tending the garden.

Come to think of it, I don't do much "cooking" in the summer. So much of what appears mid to late summer stands so well on it's own (corn, tomatoes, green beans, etc.) that it's a shame to fuss with it. And, since the kids are home with me, it seems a shame to spend hours in the house, especially when it's hot, slaving over the stove or turning on the oven. Diana and I cook a lot togehter in late spring/early summer, before summer bounty is available. Come fall, the kids go back to school. Since Diana starts almost 2 hours after the other two leave, we plan a meal, and she helps with a lot of the prep. And, I'm home alone to really get things going. I think I enjoy winter cooking most of all. Days are short, and when it's really cold out, I'm loathe to leave the house. The windows are closed, I don't keep the furnace set to high, so time to turn on the oven and bake, braise, etc.

Last night: sweet corn (yes, again), sliced tomatoes, Acme levain (baked that morning; delivered by my parents who came for dinner on their way home from the airport following a Berkeley pilgrimage). Leftover grilled chicken for those The One Who Must Have Meat. Tonight: sweet corn (broken record) and BLT's on Acme. Peaches for dessert both nights.

No candy bars here. Just bacon.

Butter with toast. I will eat just about anything else for breakfast if someone else fixes it. Most mornings, my idea of adventure is a shower before, not after, that first cuppa.

We had a wonderful time. Weather was cool and drizzly some days (we had a 44 degree morning!), warm and sunny other days. Plenty of swimming. Pizza and larp lessons well received, and the two students (Diana and Nick, ages 12 and 13 respectively) really know their way around the kitchen. They also baked cinnamon rolls on the rainy, cool day. Diana and Nick got up early one morning and I was greeted, upon awakening, of "sunfish for breakfast!" Not much to forage for -- a few stray raspberries. The hunters are gearing up, and we often heard sounds of gun shot in the gravel pit on the other side of the lake, as the ritualistic sighting and shooting at beer cans begins. While sitting in the outhouse, I once again saw the biggest buck I have ever seen. Once the other adults arrived, we grilled rib-eyes one night and accompanied them with sweet corn and sliced Brandywines. The other night, we let the kids do "hobo" dinners -- those foil packet things with chicken, potatoes and green beans. The little kids really get a kick out of it. Lunches were lazy affairs -- sandwhiches eaten on the dock in swimming suits. No worry about spilling. After dark, it was s'mores and a couple of songs with the kids, accompanied by a guitar and mandoline, then to sleep, perchance to dream. That's when the adults moved out onto the deck, cocktails in hand. Told lies, complained about vision changes and grey hair and sagging body parts, sang old rock and roll tunes, skinny-dipped under the many, many layers of stars and northern lights we don't see here in the Cities. We have all known each other since 1977, and this was our 7th annual Labor Day weekend at the cabin. The weekend had that "beginning of the F word" aura. Many of the little birds have headed south, we saw lots more ducks and geese than we had seen even 9 days earlier. Gone is the "light in August" -- that haze has been replaced once again by brilliant blue. The angle of the sun has changed remarkably since those late June/early July days. As usual, Labor Day dawned spectacularly clear, brillian and warn, without even the slightest hint of a breeze. I grabbed my coffee and went for my ritualistic first cup at the end of the dock, and the day was so inviting, it was clothes off and coffee in the lake. I was joined by everyone in a matter of moments. 13-year old boys are embarrassed by their mom's best friend skinny dipping . Another swim after breakfast. And, as is our habit, we packed and cleaned, and the last thing we did was go for that final dip of the season in the lake. It was with a tear in my eye that I bid a most fond farewell to our little spot of heaven, our water park, our spa on Monday evening. The kids are back in school, so there is no more "jeez, it is a beautiful day. Let's just head to the cabin for a few days and Daddy can come up on Friday." We will return the weekend of September 20 (the meals at the family weddings that prevent an earlier return had better be good), but we will not swim; the focus will change to walks in the woods, grouse hunting, playing cards, fires in the stove. Diana noted that next time we go up, we will probably braise something. We will brave the water once again -- to take out the dock (I should say that I will brave the water; Paul will wear the one pair of waders, I will be bikini-clad). Then a couple of trips up in October before the road becomes impassable. It has been the best summer up there ever, but then again, I think I say that every year.

Minnesota State Fair-goers ate more than 1,000,000 Corn Dogs and more than 60,000 deep-fried candy bars on sticks during the 10-day extravaganza. I'm not sure if the Corn Dog count includes Pronto Pups.

At a certain point in the summer, let's face it, there just isn't time for those blossoms to bear fruit that is going to ripen before first frost. So, you don't want the plant putting energy into trying to turn those blossoms into fruit -- you want the energy to go into enlarging and ripening the fruit already set. And, generally speaking with tomatoes, the branches that point down don't produce fruit. Trim them off to reduce energy going into those branches as well as getting more light and air to the fruit that is already set. Tomatoes and peppers like hot weather. Not just days, but nights as well. And, let's face it, the sun simply doesn't have the push it had in July and early August. As the sun loses its punch, and night time temps decrease, these plants just don't do what they did, so I prune and pinch to increase the chances of what's there to get nice and ripe. I'd bet my bottom dollar that here in the northern part of zone 4, we are less than one month away from our first frost For the squirrel problem -- I leave a couple of tomatoes in the garden, on the dirt, where they can easily get to them. It seems to help.

Freezer reminder: velcro a sharpie marker to the freezer so you can date and note contents of everything.

I head north tomorrow with 5 kids in tow (Paul and other set of parents will join us on Friday) for a final summer blast. Oh, the joys of unemployment! We will have breakfast at White Castle in Hinkley (1 hour north of our house, if one is lead-footed like moi). Two of the kids have never eaten at White Castle . The plans: larb lessons. pizza lessons. Playing in the lake. Fishing. Napping. Reading. Playing cards. Listening to the great and wonderful KAXE-FM radio. Watching the stars. Probably seeing the first of the changing leaves. In preparation for pizza lessons, I have purchased a pizza stone for the cabin. We may not have running water or electricity, but damn it, we will have a pizza stone! We return on Monday since the kids start school on Tuesday (my favorite day of the year ). I will report upon our return about fish caught, fish not caught, larp and pizza lessons, celestial matters, foraging, nap quality.

BLT's and sweet corn. One of my two very favorite meals (the other being steak). Ice cream treats from the ice cream truck for dessert.

Sweet corn (1 dozen ears for 3 people), sliced tomatoes and ice cream cones. Ice cream was freshly made vanilla ice cream with peach chunks (as opposed to peach ice cream) with the almost over-ripe peaches. Eaten outside, under the pergola, after dark, with pergola lights twinkling. Oh, I should have mentioned the leftover steak. Sliced thin.

My Brandywines are doing well; I have an adequate, but not overwhelming supply. It is perfect. Given that it is late August, I am pinching blossons and trimming down-hanging branches on the plants to encourage what fruit is set to ripen. My harcourts verts are just about done. I have 5 perfect pumpkins (one for each member of the family) ripening nicely; I have begun to trim folage and pinch blossoms to encourage pumpkin growth. I will have a bumper crop of brussels sprouts this year. The basil plants are not plants anymore; they are shrubs. I will harvest when I return from the cabin. What do people do with excess basil besides make and freeze pesto?

Unless the request is based on allergy, religious or vegetarian considerations, they eat what I serve. Because I'm the mom, that's why. Love it or leave it or at least don't bitch about it. I chose many years ago not to be a short order cook. Go back to JAZ's daily e-gullet article about the thoughtful guest.

Quitting my job. All of a sudden, I have time to cook. Cooking changes in the fall, when the kids go back to school, and I have endless hours to simmer, braise, chop, etc. No more getting home at 5:45 pm with three kids all screaming for food and attention and standing in front of the fridge with those groceries that were bought a week ago, looking blankly and wishing for a cook. I have the time now to read cookbooks (for inspriation), shop more frequently, without the pressure.

At least in Minnesota and Iowa (and probably other points in the midwest), late summer means not only getting ready for school, but also The State Fair. Where better to get a freshly deep fried (as opposed to previously fried and re-heated corn dog)? The MInnesota State Fair opens 10 days before Labor Day. My corn dog cravings begin mid-August, every year. Interesting that no one but me has brought up the difference between Corn Dogs and Pronto Pups. Having had the real thing, deep fried moments before consumption, I could not stoop to a previously fried, frozen and then re-heated so-called Corn Dog. Just not the same.

In my book, it's not a proper corn dog unless it is deep fried. A toaster oven is blasphemy. Maple syrup? Wrong. Yellow French's mustard.

But, there is nothing like a corn dog at the MN State Fair (I had plenty today ). Since I had such an artery-clogging array of food today at said Fair, I decided that my late night snack would be heart-healthy Cherrios, with a sliced heart-healthy peach on top. Then, I realized that Cherrios and peaches are much better with half-and-half than 1% milk, so...

We have returned from our annual pilgrimage to the Great Minnesota State Fair. Us and about 90-100,000 other people. It was a grand day. Paul and I have gone to the State Fair every year together since 1977. My consumption: Six 24-ounce cups of beer. 4 corn dogs (we are a house divided; Paul prefers Pronto Pups, I go for the Corn Dogs. The latter have more corn meal in the batter) slathered with mustard. One grilled chicken taco 1 order of fried cheese curds 1/2 big bucket of french fries 1 dozen mini donuts 1 bowl (huge) of honey ice cream with sunflower seeds 1 sno cone (blue flavor; raspberry?) 2 ribs 1/2 a brat with mustard and kraut 2 ears corn (pretty good, but not of the quality I'm used to) slathered with butter 1 tamale (disappointing) 1 Reuben sandwich (surprisingly good!) 1 malt 1 bottle coca-cola (classic, not diet) About a gallon of water (good thing they have lots of biffies) I could not find any bacon at the fair, other than that which had won awards and was uncooked behind glass. (this is starting to sound like a NeroW blog; I will wear elastic-waist shorts tomorrow) I did not sample a deep-fried candy bar, deep fried twinkie, or the key lime pie on a stick. The fair opened yesterday, so the bathrooms were still clean and the grease fresh. If one is interested in food offering at the Minnesota State Fair, click on the link on this page MN State Fair Food Finder Activities: We saw the state's largest boar (just under 1 ton). Piggie Momma with her brood of 9 piglets. Award-winning quilts and other assorted crafts, bacon, sausage, jelly, pies, cakes, etc. Sat on a jet ski big enough to hold our family of 5. Kids climbed on tractors, in and out of vans, on boats. I did not ride any rides. I do not do rides, especially when I have consumed as much as I did, but the kids went on plenty of them. We saw all sorts of people hawking all sorts of wares, some of which one wonders how one ever did without. I renewed my subscription to the Northern Gardener (published by the MN Hort. Society), and because I did so at the State Fair, received a complimentary watering wand. Viewed some really cool crop art. Saw "vegetable displays" (vegetables arranged as works of art). Saw a 1/4 ton pumpkin. Watched cows being milked. Saw lots of 4-H rabbits, chickens, turkeys, etc. Saw the Budweiser Clydesdales. We also watched the butter sculptor. Every year, there is a "Princess Kay of the Milky Way" attended by 9 runners-up. They have 10 90-lb. blocks of butter and a woman spends all 10 days of the fair in a cooler (with windows; it revolves) and each day she sculpts a bust of the Princess and her runners-up. Most of these young ladies are from small towns, and following the state fair, most get their butter busts to the local butcher, who stores them until the following summer, at which time, they are taken out for the town's corn feed. Watching the sculpting was a big hit with the kids. It was, as I said before, a grand day (albeit artery-clogging). Great weather. The kids behaved; none of them got "lost." Peter was another food champion, clocking in at 7 corn dogs (his age) and 4 dozen mini-donuts, among other things. The kids and I all fell asleep in the car on the way home. I think I need another nap.

Well sated, we are home for a couple of days. Sunny days, warm water, a great thunderstorm, good food (rashers of bacon, plenty of sweet corn , waffles, steak, fresh fish, tomatos, Nicollet Meat Market garlic summer sausage, cocktails). Lots of time listening to the great and wonderful KAXE-FM, watching the kids swim, swimming ourselves, skinny dipping under the northern lights... Heidi spent so long in the water on Monday even her tummy was "pruny (pruney??)." My folks and my sister and her family (they live in Berkeley) joined us. Lots of doing nothing. It suited us just fine. We head to the great and wonderful Minnesota State Fair tomorrow; then we pack back-packs and set out first day of school clothes and I will head north again early next week with the kids, to be joined by Paul and friends on Friday, for our annual Labor Day festivities at the cabin before the school year starts. It will not be our last weekend at the cabin this season, but once September rolls around, the focus changes to walks in the woods, grouse hunting and non-swimming activities.

I kind of wondered about that when I did the kitchen (myself). That is, until I started ripping into things and discovered just how shitty a job a contractor can do. I spent far longer getting things right than I ever anticipated, and far longer on the "repair" than the "redo." I learned this when I redid the basement, and found things like sliced doors and yardsticks nailed together to serve as framing.

Corn . One can make a meal out of just corn. You've got vegetable, fiber, I'm sure there's a modicum of protein. Add butter, and you've covered dairy and fat. But then again, you knew I like corn, didn't you? For variety add a tomato (preferably heirloom variety). Drink lots. Happy people. If you start out with a lot of drinks, no one notices that you're only serving corn, and no one notices how much butter has landed on one's t-shirt.

Sweet corn (surprise!) and BLT's made with great sourdough, great butcher shop apple-smoked bacon and Brandywines. We were out of lettuce. It didn't matter. Gin and tonics for the adults, ice cold Coca Cola over ice for Heidi (Peter and Diana at grandma's tonight). The rest of you cook such elaborate meals; I feel like such a load at this time of year, but the ingredients are so pure, and the time for such purity is so short, they must be eaten without much doctoring. The days, too, have so beautiful that I'm not really up to standing in the kitchen and chopping and dicing. Better to be running around in the sprinkler with the kids (or up at the cabin bobbing in the lake).