Greetings, chicklets! Arlene here, the newest to join the fold.
Since we don’t know each other very well yet, I thought I’d introduce myself by way of some of the things that happen in my kitchen.
On any given day, several things are pretty much guaranteed to be going on:
— I will have a sink full of dirty dishes. The house has a dishwasher, but I rarely use it. Some things, like plastic storage containers, I’d rather wash by hand. (The dishwasher leaves behind a crusty white film on them.) There’s also the problem of timing: I hate to discover something I need is sitting in the dishwasher, waiting to be run.
At least my roommate and I no longer have the problem we had in our first Arizona apartment. We ran the dishwasher there so infrequently that I think we left a few dishes behind when we moved out.
— I’ll be dodging a dog … or three. My Cocoa is pretty good about staying in the living room unless I call her to come in for veggie scraps. The roommates’ Cinnamon, however, loves to be right underfoot — meaning I frequently have to play dodge the dog.
To compound the canine conundrum, they just got a new puppy, Moose (whom I’ve been lobbying to rename Mousse, in keeping with the dogs-with-food-names thing). He, too, spends the bulk of his time placing himself smack-dab in the middle of my path. Too bad avoiding doggie trip hazards doesn’t burn a few extra calories.
— Bananas will be over-ripening. Whether I buy three or ten bananas at a time, I never manage to get through them before they turn too brown for my liking.
Pre-Atkins, I’d have wasted no time whipping those suckers into banana nut bread. The recipe I inherited from my mom is superb. Of course, I didn’t even buy bananas when I was on a low-carb diet. (Bananas are the highest-carb fruit, with 21+ grams of carbs in a small one.)
Now that I’m trying to follow a paleo diet (with more success some days than others), bananas are just fine — but flour and sugar are out. Some of these really brown bananas make their way into two-ingredient pancakes (one large egg, one small banana). More often, I throw them in the freezer so I can turn them into banana ice cream. I understand that’s still an untried food here in Chicklet-land — but it won’t be for long.
— I’ll probably be sniffing the leftovers. I admit, oftentimes I sniff to see if whatever it is still smells edible. As busy as I am, things tend to hang out in my fridge too long.
But last week, I performed the sniff test for a completely different reason. I made sausage patties with sweet potatoes and apples one day and beef patties with onion, carrot and zucchini the next. Foolishly, I put them in identical containers. Smell was the only way I could think of to tell them apart.
After I took a big whiff of each one, I did a double take and asked, “Did I just do that?” The answer was yes. Yes, I totally sniffed my leftovers — and I’d do it again. Sometimes it’s the only way to tell what you’re eating.
That’s a sampling of what goes on whenever I take to the kitchen.
How about you? Any pets (or children) constantly underfoot? Do you sniff your leftovers — and why?