Saturday, May 06, 2006, 18:49
Up to My Elbows
I am going to be up to my elbows this afternoon. In coleslaw. For 150. We are putting on another church dinner tomorrow. Grilled chicken with homemade coleslaw, homemade potato salad, homemade baked beans, homemade bread, homemade pickles. And pie for dessert. Not homemade. But the next best thing because it comes from a little cafe in the next town over famous for its pies (Main Street Cafe in Bloomer, Wisconsin).
Sounds delicious, doesn't it?
Too bad I'll be working too hard to enjoy it.
Oh, sure, I'll get to eat. I will fill a plate, stand in the kitchen, eat a few bites, set it down, go and do something that needs doing, come back, eat a few more bites, set the plate down, go and do something else that needs doing, come back. . .until eventually, someone thinks someone abandoned the plate, picks it up, scrapes it off and into the sink it goes so that when I finally come back -- my dinner is gone!
The coleslaw won't be too bad to make. I use my dad's recipe. Dump the shredded cabbage into a big bowl. Dump in some sugar, vinegar, water and the mayonnaise. Chop some apples. Add some pineapple. Stir it all up. Taste it. Add what needs adding. Taste it again. Keep adding. Keep tasting. Until finally it tastes like coleslaw. That's how my dad made coleslaw. People ask me for the recipe. I have to tell them there isn't one. Sometimes I think they think I don't want to share the recipe. But really, there is no recipe!
Many years ago, the pastor read a brief excerpt from the church history. It seems that when the church was initially being built (early 1900s), they held a chicken dinner to raise money. They made $12 from the chicken dinner. They also held a lutefisk dinner that same year. Made $4 from the lutefisk dinner. Which caused the pastor to conjecture that "they liked chicken a whole better than they liked lutefisk." (For those who don't know what it is, lutefisk is cod fish cured in lye; a Norwegian delicacy. Supposedly. My mother, who was first-generation full-blooded Norwegian, would not allow lutefisk in the house.)
Anyway, that's what I am going to do this afternoon. Make coleslaw. And pack it in slider bags. And hope there is room for it in the refrigerator in the church kitchen. If not too many other people beat me to the refrigerator first!
LeAnn R. Ralph
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Friday, May 05, 2006, 18:34
The Greenhouse Effect
We planted some of our garden seeds yesterday. They're in the "greenhouse" -- which really isn't a greenhouse at all. It's an old crank-out window still in the casing. But it works extremely well as a greenhouse where we can start the tomato plants and the muskmelon and watermelon -- and Randy's big pumpkins.
We set the window on the concrete approach to the garage. The garage is on the south side of the house, and if the sun decides it's going to shine soon (it's been cold and cloudy the last few days), the window will heat up nicely. And once the little peat pots full of soil heat up, it's only a matter of time until the seeds sprout and start to grow.
Every once in a while I see mini greenhouses advertised in a catalog or a flyer for several local stores. Depending on the size and the complexity, the cost ranges from $25 to $50 to closer to a $100.
Jeepers. The old window we use as a mini greenhouse was free. Randy's mom and dad did some remodeling and didn't need the window and casement.
As far as I can tell, the old window works just as well, if not better, than the mini greenhouses that you can buy. And another thing I like about it using it -- it's a way to recycle an old window. A way to find an alternative use. A way to keep the window from being thrown out as trash. I very much like the idea of finding second and third uses for common items that seemingly have outlived their usefulness.
Randy found a second use for an old hose we've got, too. The hose developed a crack part way toward the end and was no longer useful to keep hooked up to the faucet outside. So, he took the hose, drilled a hole toward the bottom of a plastic kitty litter bucket and inserted the hose. Presto! I've got a way to get water down to the garden from the washing machine without carrying the bucket all the way down the hill.
True, the hose and bucket only reach halfway up the hill from the garden. And true, I still have to bail the water out of the washing machine and carry it outside. But the hose-bucket saves carrying a five gallon bucket of water down the steepest part of the hill. And of course, this kills two birds with one stone, so to speak, because it also makes use of the washing machine water after I am finished washing clothes. It has been so dry here the last few summers, that I am thinking most of our young trees and the flower beds and the rose bushes and the lilacs would either be dead or in much worse shape than they are without the washing machine water.
As I think about this, either I am becoming wiser and more environmentally conscious as I grow older. Or else I am becoming more eccentric. Personally, I like to think of it as wiser and more environmentally conscious.
It's the same reason that an old grain elevator is still sitting down by the garden. I very much doubt that the auger works anymore. And I know that the tires are trash. The elevator was left here by the people who rented my dad's house for a few years after he died and before we moved back. They said we could do whatever we wanted with the old elevator but that they did not want to take it with them.
The *bluebirds* found a use for the old grain elevator. Every year for the past 10 years, a pair of bluebirds has nested in the top of the grain auger. Some people might think the grain elevator is an eye-sore. But I don't. Not when it houses bluebirds every year.
Now, if only the sun will shine, and the soil will warm up and the seeds in the greenhouse will sprout -- we'll be on our toward garden season. I can hardly wait to taste those tomatoes and watermelon and muskmelon. Not the Big Max pumpkins, though. They grow very large. But they're not good to eat. The seeds are good, though, if you boil them in water and roast them in the oven until they're golden brown and crispy. Yum!
LeAnn R. Ralph
Comments -- To e-mail comments, click on the contact link on the right -- or you can also copy and paste in the address line of your e-mail and replace the (at) with @: bigpines(at)ruralroute2.com