It's the holiday season. And now that I am finally coming out of the fog of The Worst First Trimester I Have Ever Experienced, my kitchen fairly sings for me to come in and play.
And so, I do.
It is through this playing that I have come to realize how ill prepared my kitchen is. Y'all have to remember, I've lived with my mother-in-law for two years, and when cooking inspiration hit, I had her fifty-plus years in the making kitchen to dabble in. There is nothing that woman doesn't have.
Except a potato masher. After grousing about this abominable over-sight for most of my seven years of marriage, I bought her one. So she even has that now. I doubt that she uses it, but it's there for me.
My kitchen, on the other hand, boasts of sticky floors, an unusual assortment of small appliances, and a liberal helping of stashed chocolate.
But not a mixing bowl big enough for half the recipes that I take on, due to my habit of doubling and tripling recipes. I resort to mixing things in my stock pot. It's awkward when I attempt to use the mixer.
I have only one spatula. How my life has dwindled down to one measly spatula, I will never know. But it's a truth that smacks me in the head nearly every time I start baking.
I have never owned one of those little egg separator things. They aren't impossible to live without, but I am betting I'd make less mess.
A garlic press. It never occurred to me to register for one of those handy little gadgets. But stupidity is born in the hearts of ecstatic brides-to-be everywhere.
I have one Pyrex casserole dish. It's a travesty and I have no words for it.
Sharp knives are a myth.
We have only four tall drinking glasses. The rest have been, shall we say, put to rest. I am known to serve from Mason jars.
The salt and pepper shaker set we were given when we got married? It bit it. My mother in law replaced it. A week or so ago, Thomas told me he had broken one of them, but the tape made it keep working. He didn't take into account where the little shards of glass had gone that were missing from beneath the tape. I keep meaning to go to Target and find a set that isn't so pricey, but that pregnancy thing keeps my brain from working.
Do you know how many baking recipes ask you to sift things? I keep pretending that just stirring really well with a fork will take care of it. Then I pretend I don't see the lumps.
None of this, however, prevents me from happily sprinkling flour about and getting my beloved aprons dirty.
Oh, speaking of aprons... isn't this one adorable???