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May 22, 2007
O, How the Mighty Have Fallen
Some of you long-time readers might recall how, way back in the day, I used to operate my own little catering company while maintaining a regular column in the local foodie rag. I wasn't just a foodie - I was a professional foodie. If you were invited to my house to eat, you could guarantee that everything was made from scratch and would be pretty damn good. Well, with some exceptions. Like the time I accidentally served my in-laws fried chicken that was raw on the inside (most likely my subconscious doing its evil, dirty thing). Or the time I burned my foot while making lasagna(again, subconscious - it has everything to to with who I'm feeding and how I feel around them). So, let me rephrase: If you were invited to my house to eat and you didn't drive me absolutely, positively batshit, you were in for a fine dining experience, for sure.
Since listing the house for sale in January, I've barely set foot in the kitchen. We've been eating a lot of convenience food and take-out because we either didn't want to mess up the kitchen or take the time from house projects. Nevermind that most of the people who looked at our house did so at dinnertime, which means we spent a portion of of our equity on eating out. When I hosted a little shindig in March, I did what had previously been unthinkable for me: I made it potluck. The only food I did was a cheese tray. And some cream cheese topped with my homemade Thai pepper jelly with pea pods for dipping. And mango-chili chicken salad. But that was it. Everyone else had to bring their own damn food.
What's the point of being pals with a chef if her parties are potluck? Honestly.
Today, I went one step further. At least with the shindig I made my dishes from scratch. Well, except for the cheese. I don't make cheese, but you understand what I'm saying. Today, I did something utterly disgraceful in my world.
I had company over for lunch and a playdate, and every single food I served came out of my freezer. Everything but the salad, which was left over from Sunday night's dinner with last night's broccoli added to pad it out.
That's right. The former food service professional who used to make money by feeding people nothing but fresh, hand-made food, fed a friend and some children her trash.
Okay, granted, it wasn't exactly trashy trash. The kids had all-natural chicken nuggets. The adults had a frozen veggie pizza from Shakespeare's, which Angela and I both regard as a delicious, soul-soothing taste of nostalgia. And there was pie. Made-from-scratch cherry pie from Granny Viv. That's nothing to be ashamed of. Okay, inviting friends over to eat frozen food I don't want to move isn't exactly a proud thing, but it was fun.
I even burned two of my knuckles while removing all three frozen items from the 425-degree oven, which means I've completely lost my touch in the kitchen.
I don't see a lot of cooking occuring anytime soon. Tomorrow we have two inspections on the crapshack. Clara Jane and I will be fleeing, leaving the manly job of inspector-wrangling to B.
Thursday, perhaps Clara Jane will forget her fear of flies and will return for her very last day of daycare. If so, I'll spend the day fretting, waiting for the call that the sight of a gnat has sent her over the edge and I have to come get her. If she doesn't go, I'll be busy with teaching her how to live her best agoraphobic life. That evening, we're going hobo again, hitting the rails for my hometown. She needs to spend a few days with her grandparents while we finish house stuff, and B. needs me out of his hair while he does some heavy-duty repairs.
While I'm gone I'm sure he'll eat nothing but the Aldi's version of frozen fried chicken, burgers from Rally's, and nachos and Super Mega Tub Big Gulps from 7-11, at which point Chef Reed Miller, who taught me everything I know about cooking, will track me down and remove two of my fingers with my own chef's knife.
Posted by Robin at May 22, 2007 04:25 PM
Comments
You and Clara are both going to be in Helltown when I'm there? YAY!
Let's get drunk and go to Grandma's.
Posted by: Wendy at May 22, 2007 05:28 PM
I look forward to coming back to the US so I can eat the same stuff B will be eating while you're gone. Now THAT'S sad.
Posted by: Dixie at May 22, 2007 05:57 PM
Frozen Shakespeare's and cherry pie from Granny Viv? Shit. That sounds pretty good to me!
Posted by: Exena at May 22, 2007 06:17 PM
Seriously, Shakespeare's and cherry pie? I'm envious!
Also, I'm curious about how you burnt your foot while making lasagne. Sounds very sitcom-ish.
Posted by: Carrie Freeman at May 22, 2007 08:59 PM
OH GOD -- Shakespeare's! I'm like 900 miles away from Shakes. Ah, so much nostalgia. I do have a few cups and a towel/napkin in my kitchen but I will be jonesing for the pizza all day.
Posted by: Marijean at May 23, 2007 07:31 AM
Oooooo, Shakespeare's!!!
Mmmm.
Last Fall I promised my kids that when gas goes below $2/gallon again we'll road trip to Columbia just for Shakepeare's (which they love too.) I think I might have to update that to $3.00/gallon. :-/
Posted by: barbara at May 23, 2007 08:29 AM
If I didn't already have a lunch date at Bambino's, I would be going to Shake's for lunch. Would it be over the top to pick up a slice after I stuff myself with pasta?
Posted by: Melissa at May 23, 2007 09:37 AM
