I Have a Confession…

I have recently been asked to determine what my style is for this contest thingy I am doing (more on that later). I basically said that I have no sense of style and that most of my clothes are frumpy – LOL! Truth is, I have always wanted to be That Girl. I want to dress like I am from the ‘60’s. I can’t help it. I want to wear dresses with matching little hats. I want to have fantastic sweater sets. I would love to look like Laura Petrie and wear plaid, figure-hugging capris. She looked great! Now why can’t I pull that off??


So lately I have been cooking like a mad woman. I have made pickles, blackberry pie, stuffed pork chops, banana bread – you name it! I have so much food that I can’t seem to find room for it in my fridge. Where are a group of teenagers when you need them? Right now, the thought of cooking anything is making me gag a little bit. Seriously. Tomorrow is Twice-Cooked night – that means leftovers at my house. I am looking forward to a night off from cooking and the joy of cleaning out the fridge. I hate wasting food. It kills me if I have to throw something out.

I have always known that I had “food rules,” but until I started seriously cooking, I didn’t realize how many I had. I have always resisted eating during my cooking and prep time to keep me from over eating. These “uncounted” calories can really add up. But then I figured out that if I didn’t taste things during this time, I would end up with dishes that needed to be corrected and it was too late. My grandmother, whom I didn’t get to spend a great deal of time with unfortunately, was a great cook. I remember her making a meatloaf and tasting the raw meat in order to adjust the seasonings. I WAS HORRIFIED! I had never seen anyone eat raw meat. I was just so stunned that I stood there speechless for many minutes. She also used her hands to mix anything and everything. Only in recent years have I gotten over sticking my hands into the meat, when making a loaf or balls, to really mix it good with the other ingredients. I wouldn’t even stick my hands into dough, which was silly. This was a huge leap for me at the time. I also never used a mixer for anything. I think this was a hold-over from the way my mom cooked. It wasn’t until I got a stand mixer that sits on the counter that I really put it to use. I can’t believe that I did everything by hand. It is amazing what you will do when you don’t know any better.

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