twenty three

We have been eating some good food lately here in Casa de Knuckleheads (my affectionate term for my children). I've finally gotten a good pumpkin bread recipe under my belt, which I try to make as often as we can stand because, as Henry would say, it's SO YUM. Last weekend I threw together a white bean chicken chili and that was very good. Last night I browsed my soup cookbook [NOTE: Unless I am baking, which really does require precise measurements, or trying something COMPLETELY different than anything I've ever made before (like brining a turkey), I don't use recipes. I will look at cookbooks for ideas, and then once I get the general gist of things, back it goes on the shelf. I sort of just throw things together and it usually turns out just fine. There has only been one time in my life as a cook that a meal has been truly inedible. Also, I think you become a much better cook doing it this way - follow your instincts and your tastebuds, people! Close those cookbooks! Put DOWN that measuring spoon!] and found a good looking spinach soup idea, which I modified since I didn't feel like hunting all over town for uncooked barley. It was just sauteed onion and celery, 2 pkgs frozen creamed spinach, chicken broth, and brown rice. I will save this idea for whenever we can get together with these vegetarians I know, or maybe this other vegetarian I know, and substitute with vegetable broth which I'm sure would be just as good.

I really enjoy cooking for people. When one of those aforementioned vegetarians still lived here in FL, he was subjected to a meal at our house about once a week. I may make a pot of lentils in his honor sometime next week, after all the Thanksgiving/birthday hullabaloo. I guess it's the mothering instinct in me - I want to make sure all the people I love are fed well. Plus, I'd rather hear a complement on my homemade pizza than one on my appearance any day. Well, almost any day.