Iíve been slowly learning the pros and cons of the waffle iron I got for Christmas. It cooks faster than the old one and you canít necessarily go by the steam rule. There may be steam, but the waffle is done, and if you leave it in longer, it will burn. It takes a while to get used to any machine.
I think I have discovered a savior in the pancake making business, and it may carry over into waffles also. While diligently reading the Sunday supplement ads, I found a product that was meant for me. Bottled pancake batter. Yes, a bottle of already premixed batter. All that is necessary is to pour the right amount into the pan and cook. The label says ďJust Pour Flip, and Serve.Ē Iím hooked; next visit to the grocery, Iím searching for this new product. It makes sense doesnít it? They have prepared cookie dough that you just slice and put in the oven, so why not different types of batter? While Iíve learned not to believe all of the kitchen advertising, Iím all ready to pour, flip, and serve some mighty tasty flap jacks. You can be sure that Iíll keep you informed on my progress.
Something else new that I read about are Death Cafes. (It has nothing to do with feeding zombies.) The one thing that we all must face in our life is death, and there is a group who thinks itís a good idea to know something about it as long as we all are going to be participants. I guess I understand the thinking behind their idea of a bunch of live people sitting around talking about the next phase, but Iím not sure Iím interested. If they had some new idea of telling the date of your dying, it would be different, but as we have seen around here lately, you never know.
I ate pretty well recently by my own hand also. I made some pasta (best if used by 2009) with homemade spaghetti sauce, which another member of my family made, and threw in some ready made meatballs, which Hormel made, put it in my small slow cooker, and had a wonderful meal. The trouble was that even though it seemed a small amount by normal standards, it was way too much for one meal. Like so many single meals, I had it over and over again. I never get tired of pasta with meatballs, but it is a little much when you have it for breakfast.
We get back to the problem with single cooking. I understand why so many single folks eat out for their main meals. If you have too much you can get a doggie bag.
Weíve got all the big holidays out of the way for a while, so Iím going to take an emotional vacation. The next thing is to watch some rat crawl out of his hole to see if winter is going to last six more weeks. Ha! I donít care if he comes out waving a flag and smoking a cigar; we are going to have six more weeks of winter! In fact, we might have 12 more weeks of winter. At least I donít have any good memories about Groundhog Day to dredge up.
Stay warm, and donít fall. Iím at firstname.lastname@example.org. Drop me a line.