Tag: food

Recipe Revue, (but not quite a revue)

Last century, in Tiny Town, Texas, our local newspaper regularly featured the photo of a home cook and three or four of their favorite recipes. Most were the sort you’d find in a local ladies’ auxiliary plastic comb-bound publication. Some were off if you followed the recipes instead of only reading them. Misprints or typos like 1 cup of tea instead of a teaspoon of instant tea mix. 1 c. of lard instead of, well, what kind of recipe might one need with a full cup of lard?

People dressed up for their photos. Nothing like today’s influencer photos. These were studio photos with bad lighting in colorless newsprint. No highly styled foodstagram pictures either. Just the recipe and your imagination or actual ingredients and something to eat as a result.

Yesterday, in suburban central Texas, the hubster opened a last century recipe book hunting down an apple cinnamon bread recipe.

“My sister gave me the recipe. I think your mom makes it too,” he recalls as he flips through pages of handwritten recipes.

“My mom got the recipe from your sister when she was in the paper,” I announce.

“Were you ever in the paper?” he asks.

“Not for the recipes. Mainly for nerdy school stuff. Band, honor roll, the regular school activities everyone did because there was nothing else to do.”

“French breakfast puffs,” he mutters as he continues to search.

“Ha! Those were neither puffy nor Frenchy. They’re basically muffins doused in melted butter and rolled in cinnamon sugar. They’re good, but not French.” I recall getting that recipe from one of my friends who was featured when we were in high school. They were a hit with our family, French or not.

He finds the recipe, discovers we’re out of apples, pushes the recipe book aside and searches for one on his phone. Settling for cinnamon bread with pecan strudel topping, he begins mixing.

I wonder what my blurb would say if I were selected today? Impossible, since the newspaper is defunct, but it’s fun to imagine.

Better yet, hubster and I would be the first dynamic duo, breaking with a single person featured. Would each of us take a turn over two consecutive weeks or would we hang out together? He loves cooking, I prefer eating. He’s the cook, I’m the baker. Team Use Every Utensil (him) or Team Clean As You Go? Complex recipes or one pot wonders? Which recipes would we choose? Three each or three of our favorites?

Hubster’s recipes: Tx cheesesteaks on the Blackstone griddle, cinnamon rolls in an hour, carne guisada with homemade corn tortillas, refried beans, and guac.

Wifey’s recipes: Rotisserie chicken taco Tuesday extravaganza, blueberry smash margaritas, tub of salad with olive oil & balsamic vinegar-serving bowl optional. Oh, and maybe a batch of those French breakfast puffs for special occasions.

Tuesday, April 8, 2025

Cereal Crunchers

Give ’em a bunch of Cap’ n Crunch so it will scratch off the roofs of their mouths…

“Ahh! Cap’ n Crunch! Who still eats that and why does it hurt to eat it?”

We never got Cap’ n Crunch. We had to settle for government issued King Vitamin. Those did the same thing though, but they’re not nearly as sweet as Cap’ n Crunch.

On we go discussing childhood memories of favorite breakfast cereals. Froot Loops. Toucan was my favorite cereal mascot. It’s the closest to the jungle I could get, reading the back of the box finding the hidden images in the puzzle without checking them off as I found them, milk turning gray. I’m not giving away the answers to my two younger sisters and bratty lactose-intolerant brother, although I’d take a peek at the solution turning the box upside down.

On second thought, maybe Tony Tiger is my favorite. Frosted Flakes were a special treat. Otherwise, we relied on generic corn flakes, add your own sugar. Add it we did, but it didn’t work well as it wound up in a thick layer in the bottom of the bowl after the milk was slurped. Sometimes I added sliced bananas, but overall, it qualified as grown-up cereal. There was a recipe we used to make sweet, gooey peanut-butter bars with too many boxes. In that case, they were grrrreat!

Lucky Charms were fun, without the milk. Anyone else pick out the “lucky charms?” I din’t like hard, shriveled marshmallows, but they were cute. The cereal, re-shaped Alpha-Bits, were tasty. Speaking of Alpha-Bits, I could never scoop up a full word on my spoon. Why were the letters always broken? The magic of television.

Fruity Pebbles were okay, but the best ones were chocolate. Who wouldn’t want chocolate milk after all the crunch was gone?

Honey Nut Cheerios were always so much better than regular, until I started buying them for my kids. Three plain Cheerios on the high chair tray kept them occupied while I cooked dinner, until they perfected the pinscher grasp and began grabbing them by the fistfuls. Three little oat circles were never enough.

I rarely eat cereal now. Occasionally, I’ll crave a bowl of Frosted Flakes, but never enough to warrant buying a box of it. If we have granola, I’ll crunch on a small amount with coconut milk. We have a box of Honey Nut Cheerios on top of the fridge. I don’t remember the last time it was opened. It’s probably stale by now.

Saturday morning cartoons and a bowl of cereal has been replaced with a cup of coffee and a list of too many things to do.

Saturday, March 9, 2024

Lunch with Liz, et al.

SOLSC Day 4

“…the people who give you their food, give you their heart.”

César Chávez
Jalapeño Jack cheese served with HEB In House Roasted Turkey

I looked at my sad little lunch today. I’m grateful to have something to eat, but it’s the time of the week where the fridge has been emptied of unsafe to eat leftovers. That, and I didn’t feel like eating chicken. Plus I was running late (again) this morning so it was one of those open the lunch bag in front of the fridge and sweep in whatever fits. I wound up with a single serve square of jalapeño jack cheese, a new package of roasted turkey breast that thankfully didn’t smell funny, a coleslaw mix with dressing, a tub of almond butter, and an apple that’s been in there for a week.

I miss lunches that aren’t spent solo in my office with a webinar running on my computer and I especially miss the lunches with my colleagues at my former campus. That’s where we collaborated, vent our frustrations, laughed until we needed antacid, burned popcorn, and pretty much had a buffet every day.

Some of us, moms with young children, wound up with a snack pack of Goldfish crackers, applesauce, a juice box, and a half empty pack of fruit snacks from a diaper bag or from underneath the seat of the car. Exhausted teacher moms, we often ran out of time to pack something decent for ourselves. Our lunch time became sacred because the teacher moms with older kids brought leftovers. Some were empty nesters who cooked too much, some had events over the weekend like engagement parties for an adult child or get togethers with their high school kids’ sports teams. It never failed, when we had our baby lunches, someone always came through with plenty of food.

Then there’s Liz, who introduced me to Asian fusion, the best steak, roasted Brussels sprouts, and countless other menu items from restaurants I’d never visit with two kids in tow. Every time I had a sad little lunch, Liz showed up with takeout bags and containers from fancy restaurants. Some days I cried happy tears because I was so hungry (sad little lunches usually accompany non-existent breakfasts) and we cheered as if we’d landed a rover on Mars.

Conversations centered around cupcakes, parenting, play-by-play Game of Thrones commentaries, good music, bad music, discussing an impromptu happy hour, a recap on emails we accidentally or purposely deleted, who was first to finish all of the STAAR training modules, vacation suggestions…

We ate until students started showing up, peeking in to see what they missed. “Is that burned popcorn? I smell burned popcorn! Do you smell burned popcorn?”

“Come on in, kiddo. How was that blue slushie you had with your lunch?”