Nothing funny about feldspar

Sally Greene is culling her cookbooks by trying recipes. She’s just getting started (three reports so far), but it’s looking pretty good if her intention is to create bookshelf space — one in three so far is a “keeper.” (The Lamb Curry (the sole keeper) sounds good, even at 9 in the morning…)

I miss my cookbooks, as they were all packed away in preparation for Plagioclase’s mother’s move-in. Plus we were going to sell the house, but the one we were going to buy didn’t work out. Anyway, it’s been a couple of years since I could sit down and leaf through my cookbooks to try new stuff. This has sorely limited the food we eat, because I don’t get inspired to cook anymore.¹

Maybe if I find my box of cookbooks I’ll try Sally’s method. Of course, I’m not sure I could manage to get rid of any of them — sometimes the book holds the memory of the meal (”Oh yeah! I remember this — we made this but didn’t have the _____ so we substituted ____ and boy was it weird!”).

I’ll at least plan on cooking something from every cookbook. When I get them, that is. In the meantime, I’ll be peeling potatoes…

1. That and the fact that I know I can please Plagioclase’s mother by cooking anything that has bacon, potatoes and onions in it, as long as it is bland and brown. She’s one of those people when confronted with vegetarian bean soup will ask where the ham is, and waxes poetic about her grandmother’s cooking, which always seems to start “She browned the onions in butter…” and ends with “and then everything got real brown.”↩