My brother-in-law invited Ian and me over to his house for ribs for Memorial Day. Ian was at work but I went, as usual, without him. I knew in advance that the family would meet later that day, so I set to cooking. Well, first I set to shopping. Once I returned home laden with all manner of plastic bags that I toted up the stairs and into the house, I commenced to grating cabbage. After I had both kinds, regular and red, grated, I realized that I had forgotten to get carrots. I picked up a parcel of them on my trip to the store, but put them back for another kind, only then I got so wrapped up in marking other items from my list that the carrots slipped my mind.
The potatoes boiled. I left the house, drove to Food City, bought two bundles of carrots, and returned home. Did I mention that I grated all that cabbage by hand? I still lack a food processor. Kelly and I chatted about food processors a few days ago. She said that hers was too small, and that she wished she'd gotten a bigger one from the start. That fear prevented me from selecting one at all. So maybe that helps me solve my own quandary of small or large-sized food processor. Now I must settle on a brand.
Cole slaw came out fine. I followed the recipe for it from Blue Willow Bible of Southern Cooking (2005), my new favorite cooking reference. It's color was purplish-pink, and added color to an otherwise monochromatic food grouping on our plates later that night. I mentioned potatoes, right? I cooked nine, per the instructions in the All New Good Housekeeping Cookbook (2001) for creamy potato salad. I've made that recipe before, so I knew it was good, though not my favorite. I simply haven't had time to spend whipping up different potato salads to come up with what suit me perfectly. My hand was heavy with the Hellman's, so the salad was runny. I boiled the potatoes the amount of time the recipe called for, but they seemed undercooked to me. Still, everyone at dinner complimented me on both dishes. Plus, there was a mustard-base store-bought potato salad to compare with. It was okay, but terribly tart.
Then there was dessert. I made two pies. First, was my family-famous pecan pie. Second was a toll house pie. That was the first time I tried that recipe. Way back when I desperately tried to replicate the Chocolate Delight at Firehouse, I searched the web for toll house pie recipes. I found three, and decided on one. But it's been at least two years since I've made a toll house pie, so I forgot which recipe I used to rely on. Throwing caution to the wind, I chose the recipe that I had never made. It had more eggs. And I've been trying to use my farm-fresh locally-laid eggs. Both pies were way rich and could only be eaten with a scoop of ice cream topping them. There was also a succulent peach cobbler that my mother-in-law made. What else was there? Ribs. And baked beans.
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