AMAZING GRAZING~~~~Quickfire Carbonara

Some days feel as if they are spinning out of control. Apparently we still have the same number of hours in each one, but due to the number of jobs necessary to keep our heads above water, or far too much playtime, when dinner time arrives most of us at one time or another roll our eyes and lament the absence of an idea to place upon the dinner table.

The “dinner hour” seems to have changed places too. Those who used to eat at seven, now eat at five. For some, the table itself seems to have shifted: TV trays, tea carts, and any number of quick change solutions take place in our busy society.

Remember when your mother called you in to dinner, or supper, and you all sat at the same table at the same time? She had started dinner preparations early in the day, and probably knew three days in advance what she was serving.

When the younger generation departs, they take with them the traditions of family dining. Gone are the ball game or music practice which kept dinner waiting on the stove or in the microwave. Now here you are, for better or worse, starving to death and nothing in your mind to keep the wolf at bay.

We eat a lot of pasta, both home made and dry. It’s quick to fix comfort food. I make this pasta dish frequently and never tire of it.

Fiddling around in the kitchen last night after coming home late I needed a sauce for a few frozen ravioli. I no longer can eat red sauce, so I’m always playing with other alternatives. For this one melted a couple tablespoons butter, added the zest of 1/2 lemon, then add its juice. Simmer about 1 min. then add about 1 cup white wine, cook about 5 min. add about 3 Tbs. sour cream or whipping cream and simmer till thickened. \Throw in a handful of parmegiano.

QUICKFIRE CARBONARA

Fry about 6 slices thick-sliced bacon cut into thin slices in a little bit of oil till golden brown. Add about 6 oz white wine, and reduce slightly. Keep warm while cooking spaghetti.

Beat a couple eggs, add 1/2 c parmesan, a little olive oil, Toss the drained pasta into the egg and cheese then add the bacon mixture.. See? It only took about 5 min. except for cooking the pasta which took you 12 min or so.

EVERYDAY TRANSLATING

“The art of wisdom is the art of knowing what to overlook.”

Previously I said I was in awe of translators, but heck, we’re all translators. Everytime we talk to our family, our dogs, our friends—we’re translating what they are saying into something we want to hear.

What did your friend really mean with that look she gave you after your third glass of wine? What did your husband mean when he flounced out the door in the morning just because you were a little late getting home from your bridge game the afternoon before?

Your three year old doesn’t really mean he hates you when he says he does, he wants you to set him straight about who really wears the pants around here. It keeps him in his comfort zone.

We all have to live in this family, this community, this world. It behooves us all to darn well get over it and get together.

Get over being miffed at your friend and just give her that recipe she’s been begging for. Friends aren’t all that easy to find anymore. Go ahead and buy your kid that toy he’s whining for (unlkess it costs more than the mortgage payment.), And believe me, your husband will be home tonight and grateful for that special dinner you’re going to fix him. After all you could have called him yesterday.

Don’t make it too difficult for others to translate you.

PUT THE ONION ON

Two or three afternoons  a week, at four or five o’clock, Great-Aunt Helen would announce to her friends over the bridge table ,”Got to run home quickly and put the onion on!” This was a subterfuge she had used for some 45 years to mislead her husband that his dinner was on the way!  (The odor of frying onions is irrisistible to a hungry man.)

She lived in a large old Victorian house which had been built by my Great Grandfather in the 19th century.  My husband and I rented the third floor attic from her for three years for the exhorbitant amount of $35 per month when we first married 65 years ago.

Aunt Helen was a larger than life individual with strong opinions, but a grand sense of fun.  Her colorful conversation was scattered with outrageous observations, many of which dealt with her painful feet.  She wore old-fashioned “sensible” shoes, except on bridge days, when she put on her one pair of dress-up shoes, which she referred to as her “sitting shoes”.  She remained a farm girl who happened to live in the city. 

Upon arriving home from an afternoon of bridge, and before removing her hat, girdle or dress-up shoes, she quickly chopped up an onion and put it on the stove to work its odiferous magic.

Uncle Fred worked in San Francisco and had taken the ferry to and from Alameda each day for 40 years.    Arriving home at precisely 5:30 every day and entering by the front door, at approximately the same time as Aunt Helen was coming in by  the rear door, he was able to smell the delicious and intoxicating odor of onions cooking, and contentedly settled his portly little body into his large comfy chair to read the evening paper.

Misleading, yes, but comforting to a weary husband after a hard day’s work.  Today’s version might be a welcoming glass of wine rather than an onion, and possibly today’s husband might even chop the onion!

Simpicity at its best!