As often as I sing Nyel’s praises in the cooking department, I’m not sure I say enough about his penchant for cooking from scratch. Prepared foods don’t have much place the great scheme of things in our kitchen, as a glance inside our cupboards reveals.
Tostados for dinner? Only if he has a supply of beans he has previously cooked in the slow cooker for a day Then he’ll add them to the onions he has sautéed in one of the cast iron frying pans, add chili powder and cumin and we’re in business. He doesn’t (usually) make the tortillas or salsa or (ever) the sour cream. The lettuce used to come from his garden but, alas, not now.
We aren’t big on casseroles but we do have stir fry and kabobs fairly often and, the old stand-by dinners we both grew up with — meat, vegetable, potatoes (or rice or maybe egg noodles.) Now that Nyel can no longer keep a garden (and I am worthless as a helpmate in that arena) our produce all comes from the market — almost always fresh, occasionally frozen, never, as in not ever, canned.
Soups and salads — all from scratch, except if tomato sauce is required. Then Nyel will make concessions to one particular brand that has a no salt added choice. Spaghetti sauce… also from scratch. Salad dressings… ditto
Breads and simple desserts are home made when Nyel has time or, perhaps, is in the mood. Pastas and noodles are store-bought but, again, we are picky about brands. Condiments are mostly store-bought, except when we luck out from some of our homemaker friends and relatives.
Even Nyel’s granola is made from scratch — rolled oats, wheat germ, almonds (chopped in food processor), raisins sunfower seeds, honey, olive oil — all mixed and slow-baked, The Best!
We do make a few concessions to prepared foods — Costco’s Meat Lasagna for one and ready-to-bake pie shells are another. We love Ekone Smoked Oysters (do they even count as a “prepared” food?) and every now and then I have a craving for California rolls from Safeway’s sushi bar.
None of which detracts one iota from the day-in, day-out presentations Nyel offers here at home. He might have missed his calling, vocation-wise. But I am ever grateful that I get the benefit of any missed opportunity he might have had along those lines! Lucky me!
“Well,” I said, “we have oil and plenty of eggs. Do you think you could find a recipe online.”
We thought we’d NEVER get out of the Seaside Hospital yesterday! Nyel had wakened with a “dangerously low” blood pressure and they said if it didn’t come up they’d have to keep him. Interestingly, there was no speculation as to why it was low. And, had they asked, we could have told them that that happens occasionally to him but it always come back to where it should be in a few hours.
Nyel managed to walk into the house on his own steam (with his walker) and was greeted, first thing, by a gorgeous bouquet and six chocolate cupcakes on a silver tray. Then there was the biggest chocolate bar of all time, beautifully wrapped! And in our fridge was a home-made lasagne (“a little spicy”) with an accompanying salad, salad dressing and bottle of red wind for our dinner. And for dessert, fudge brownies with a hint of orange zest! What fabulously thoughtful friends and neighbors we have!
Just as the bird flew out, Erik and Pat arrived. Suddenly, I wasn’t a bit concerned about putting away medical supplies or reading the manual for Nyel’s portable wound-vac. It’s really amazing how many frustrations and worries a delicious meal with good friends can erase, to say nothing of the warm glow we both are still feeling about such a wonderful homecoming! Neither of us can quite wrap our heads around the amazing generosity and support our friends (and even “friends” we hardly know!) have provided during these past months. There aren’t enough hugs or thank yous to begin to express how we feel. We only hope we can “pay it forward” as time goes by.
I remember that, in the days of my youth, there were kids who sampled the paste every time we had an art project. Of course, in an effort to dissuade them from their adventuresome behavior, they were usually told that paste was made from horses’ hooves. That did not stop them. No doubt such epicurean experimentation has stopped now glue sticks have come into fashion. (However, I wonder if kids do give those scented ones a taste test now and then.)
Bit by bit Nyel’s appetite is returning, as is his strength. He can now actually get himself into a sitting position, use his arms to scoot himself a-little-at-a-time toward the end of the bed and then transfer himself to a chair — even if there are a few inches of disparity in the height of the two surfaces. This is a HUGE improvement. Everyone who sees him do it (the nurses and therapists and doctors often pause in his doorway to watch the “show”) and to clap and cheer. (Quietly. Like in a library.)
This morning one of the Orthopedic Team said he might be put back on his blood thinners next Friday. We sincerely hope so. Besides the obvious reasons, he won’t be discharged from here until that happens. Meanwhile, we hope against hope that no new setbacks occur and that library paste morphs into more palatable fare. Ki yi yippee yippee yay!
My grandparents always referred to South Bend as “The Bend.” I don’t know why exactly. I do know that most of their local day-to-day (more like once or twice a month) dealings were centered across the bay in the early days – the cleaners, the bank, the dentist, the barber, were all in The Bend. Important business was usually transacted in Portland which, in the early part of the twentieth century, was the most accessible big city. It wasn’t until automobiles and roads arrived that travel on the Peninsula, itself, became easier for north end residents.
Yesterday, however, we were passing through about four o’clock on our way home from the Emerald City and Nyel suggested to nip in to Betzy’s Tienda Mexicana to check it out – maybe pick up something to take home for dinner. Great idea! We have heard great things about their food but we seldom are there before their 4:30 closing time.
As it turned out, there weren’t many choices. “We’re out of rice,” the pleasant cook said. “It takes two hours for us to clean up, so we don’t have much left by this time of day.” Nevertheless, she put together enough ingredients so we could build four “quesadillas” when we got home – two with chicken, one with beef, and one with barbecued beef. It smelled delicious and tantalized us all the way to Oysterville.