I had a minor kitchen emergency last week. Minor might be a little too mild a term to use, but there was no fire nor even a wisp of smoke involved, and it had nothing to do with the microwave. I understand that doesn’t sound normal in my kitchen but let me explain.
I’ve been checking large cans of tomato pasta sauce to see if they’re edible. Most have expired a few years ago, but I’ve found that as long as you stick to two years overdue, you’re OK. So here was a big can of mushroom flavored tomato sauce waiting to be tested in my kitchen.
I opened it first, which was a mistake because now I was committed if it was good and that was a lot of tomato sauce! Keep in mind that throwing food away doesn’t enter my mind. I got the pasta pot, put some water in, brought it to a boil, took an older cellophane bag of pasta, opened it meaning to put a small amount in to try a little of the sauce, and rip, the whole bag dumped into the boiling water! OK, my addled brain said, “You can’t take pasta out of boiling water and put it back in the bag; now what do I do?” “How about panic” I thought as I scurried here and there trying to control the impending mess. The water was dangerously low in the pan so I took a nearby coffee cup, filled it with water, put it in the microwave (my savior today); got boiling hot in a hurry, and added it to the mess.
“Might as well go all out,” I figured so I took out another big pan and dumped in what looked like a gallon of questionable tomato sauce. As the sauce warmed, I tasted it; “Hum, not bad; let’s keep going.” So I’ve got two large pans bubbling away with a lot of toil and trouble. I thought that I might as well go all out and add some kind of meat since I’m basically carnivorous. The only meat I could find was a ring of bologna in the freezer. Yes, I did! Now I have enough of that stuff to feed a Russian infantry company.
It turned out ok, but, boy, I was really scurrying for a while. I can handle one boiling pot ok; two make me nervous and standing there with three big pots boiling away was almost too much; I almost had a food faint. I haven’t named it yet although I had several names for it while it was cooking.
Surviving adult children aren’t widowers, but they often have a hard time after a parent’s death. I guess that’s something we ought to think more about during a death in a family.
I believe my semi-pro photographer is going to be around soon and I can provide a new portrait for you. You can see me on Facebook now but the picture’s a little old.
Hug a widowed person this week. Alnada2704@gmail.com or write to Al Owne c/o Winona Post, Box 27, Winona, MN 55987.