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Nov. 18th, 2007
In Which Allison Learns...
Nov. 18th, 2007 02:06 pm... to read packages more thoroughly prior to making purchases.
What good is a probe thermometer that is not heat-safe to 500 degrees? Fuck! When I roast things, I pretty routinely use a cooking stage anywhere from 450-500, to brown things up.
Dammit!
What good is a probe thermometer that is not heat-safe to 500 degrees? Fuck! When I roast things, I pretty routinely use a cooking stage anywhere from 450-500, to brown things up.
Dammit!
Stage one complete
Nov. 18th, 2007 11:03 pmWell, I went shopping with my mom, but it was a trial. The plan was to go in the afternoon, so she wanted me to call her "around noon." Knowing that she was speaking in momspeak and functioning on momtime, I called at one. No answer. Well, sometimes she doesn't get to the phone on time, so I called again. I went ahead and had a cigarette and then called her AGAIN. No answer. She called back ten minutes later saying she had JUST GOTTEN UP and that it would be another TWO HOURS before she was ready to go.
So I cleaned the house. I picked up all the cat toys, ran the dishwasher, dusted, cleaned my bathroom, and swept and mopped the kitchen and bathroom. And then I called her again.
She was half dressed and didn't have her hair done. It would be another hour.
I played hobowars, cleaned a little more, and went up to Mike's to grab some quarters for laundry. Mike and I went and did our grocery shopping, and I called her on the way home. She was almost ready, she said, and I should head right over after putting my groceries away.
I stashed the groceries and gobbled some lowfat pringles, not having had anything to eat but a bagel with lowfat cream cheese and a pot of coffee that day, and then I headed over.
It was at least a half an hour before we left, and we had to kiss Samson the kitten goodbye first, and then we had to stop and get the mail on the way out. We got to the grocery store (hagen, which means I'll need to go to Freddys to get a brining bucket on another day) at a little after 6:30 PM. I did my shopping, and was finished a half-hour before they were, and spent the rest of the time helping them fill their list.
One highlight. They had meyer lemons at the store. Oh, man. For those of you who don't know, the meyer lemon is thought to be a cross between an orange and a lemon. It's been grown in China for centuries as an ornamental, and its usefulness in cuisine was rediscovered by modern american chefs, maybe ten years or so ago. They are slightly sweeter than regular lemons, with a more complex, richer flavor. They are thin-skinned and fragrant, and possess almost herbal notes. They won't produce as much zest as a regular lemon, but they'll more than make up for it in flavor. I'm SO EXCITED. This will be the perfect addition to my green bean casserole.
So they finally check out, and pay, and then they get drive up service. The thing where you drive up and they load your groceries for you? I said, "oh, don't do that, I'm happy to load them up," but my mother won't hear of it. So I have to pull up and wait for them to load the groceries (on top of my groceries, which are already in the trunk... I haven't checked my eggs yet) and we finally get to mom's place at 8:30. I take my groceries to my car and load them up, and then make space in the spare fridge for the turkey (26 lbs!) and put it in there to finish thawing.
I finally got home and put away my groceries, and it was nine.
I went over to Mike's house and had dinner, and got back to my place at around 10:30. Too late for laundry or vacuuming, so I didn't even get to finish my housework.
Oh yeah... I found out I'm doing the dressing this year. Originally, my mom was like, "I'll do the dressing," and then it was, "can you make the cornbread for the dressing?" Then it was, "we'll have TWO kinds of dressing!" and then today it was, "what do you need for the cornbread dressing?"
DAMMIT. I made my shopping list while I thought that I wasn't making the cornbread dressing, so now of course I don't have everything I'll need. I don't know if things really get screwed up like that in her head, or if she's fucking with me, or if it's a little bit of both, but it's EXTREMELY frustrating. I understand that she wants to be part of making the dinner, but her insistence on involving herself is hampering me.
Now everything looks good to go, relatively. I still don't have everything for the dressing, or the bucket (oh noes!), but I am bound and determined to make sure she doesn't sabotage me this time.
So I cleaned the house. I picked up all the cat toys, ran the dishwasher, dusted, cleaned my bathroom, and swept and mopped the kitchen and bathroom. And then I called her again.
She was half dressed and didn't have her hair done. It would be another hour.
I played hobowars, cleaned a little more, and went up to Mike's to grab some quarters for laundry. Mike and I went and did our grocery shopping, and I called her on the way home. She was almost ready, she said, and I should head right over after putting my groceries away.
I stashed the groceries and gobbled some lowfat pringles, not having had anything to eat but a bagel with lowfat cream cheese and a pot of coffee that day, and then I headed over.
It was at least a half an hour before we left, and we had to kiss Samson the kitten goodbye first, and then we had to stop and get the mail on the way out. We got to the grocery store (hagen, which means I'll need to go to Freddys to get a brining bucket on another day) at a little after 6:30 PM. I did my shopping, and was finished a half-hour before they were, and spent the rest of the time helping them fill their list.
One highlight. They had meyer lemons at the store. Oh, man. For those of you who don't know, the meyer lemon is thought to be a cross between an orange and a lemon. It's been grown in China for centuries as an ornamental, and its usefulness in cuisine was rediscovered by modern american chefs, maybe ten years or so ago. They are slightly sweeter than regular lemons, with a more complex, richer flavor. They are thin-skinned and fragrant, and possess almost herbal notes. They won't produce as much zest as a regular lemon, but they'll more than make up for it in flavor. I'm SO EXCITED. This will be the perfect addition to my green bean casserole.
So they finally check out, and pay, and then they get drive up service. The thing where you drive up and they load your groceries for you? I said, "oh, don't do that, I'm happy to load them up," but my mother won't hear of it. So I have to pull up and wait for them to load the groceries (on top of my groceries, which are already in the trunk... I haven't checked my eggs yet) and we finally get to mom's place at 8:30. I take my groceries to my car and load them up, and then make space in the spare fridge for the turkey (26 lbs!) and put it in there to finish thawing.
I finally got home and put away my groceries, and it was nine.
I went over to Mike's house and had dinner, and got back to my place at around 10:30. Too late for laundry or vacuuming, so I didn't even get to finish my housework.
Oh yeah... I found out I'm doing the dressing this year. Originally, my mom was like, "I'll do the dressing," and then it was, "can you make the cornbread for the dressing?" Then it was, "we'll have TWO kinds of dressing!" and then today it was, "what do you need for the cornbread dressing?"
DAMMIT. I made my shopping list while I thought that I wasn't making the cornbread dressing, so now of course I don't have everything I'll need. I don't know if things really get screwed up like that in her head, or if she's fucking with me, or if it's a little bit of both, but it's EXTREMELY frustrating. I understand that she wants to be part of making the dinner, but her insistence on involving herself is hampering me.
Now everything looks good to go, relatively. I still don't have everything for the dressing, or the bucket (oh noes!), but I am bound and determined to make sure she doesn't sabotage me this time.