No Spring in our Step

The day after taking grandson Nathaniel back to college, we went for our usual morning walk. Cold temperatures were in the forecast, but snow was not. Although the roads were clear, decks and steps were white. We donned winter gear and sallied forth. Visualize a generic snowflake, if you will, with its cute little points. Let me tell you, those cute little points were daggers! Forsythia buds shivered in the breeze, and daffodil leaves huddled close. Spring may be looming on the calendar, but it is not here yet. As for our walking steps, they were at winter speed. In consideration of ears and toes, we did not linger. That is, we didn’t linger until we saw neighbor Marla sweeping the snow off the minivan. We agreed the snow was a surprise, as neither she nor John heard it in the forecast.

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Spring Break Ends

Grandson Nathaniel’s last full day with us was packed with excitement. Our son John $ was here to visit with him. $ drove Nate and me to Soco Falls between Maggie Valley and Cherokee. We went down the steep path to the viewing platform, which was far enough for me. Nathaniel continued down to the base of the falls where he posed for a moment.

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His bright blue shirt helped in spotting him. I zoomed in as he started the climb back.

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Because of a connection of dear neighbors, Nathaniel had a job interview in town. It seemed to go very well, and they will talk again when Nate finishes classes in May. I don’t want to jinx it, so I’ll say no more.

Because John was doing trains in Tennessee, we were sharing one car. David hurried to be ready for work, and we dropped him off on the way to Nathaniel’s interview. I knew the car needed gas, so I stopped on the way back. Filling a car would be humdrum for most folks, but it has probably been ten years since I pumped gas. I told Nate I was screwing my courage to the sticking post to do it. I had to read all the instructions on the pump. Bless his heart, he had come around the car and was standing there, ready to help if need be. I know you are snickering, but that was my big excitement of the day.

It can be a bit intimidating to cook for a chef. Nathaniel never criticizes anything, but I’m aware that his standards are very high. What would you cook for him if he came to your house? The two prettiest things I did were a chicken pie and a chocolate chip coffeecake.

We will miss Nathaniel when he is back at school.  It won’t be long before he will be here again, and David is still with us.  Let the good times keep rollin’!

Chef’s Practice Time

Like all artists, beginning chefs practice for hours.. When passion is involved though, you might substitute “play” for “practice”. I enjoyed watching grandson Nathaniel in my kitchen. He piped chocolate on a plate, working for skill and speed. A design like this might be used to decorate a plate on which a dessert is served. Grandson David was the designated cleaner, eating it the next day.

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This is on a small dessert plate.

I cooked poached eggs for breakfast, using silicone forms. Nathaniel had a second one, which he cooked in the classic way. He boiled water in a saucepan, added a little vinegar, swirled the water with a spoon, and gently tipped the egg in the water. He likes a runny yolk, so he took it out before the yolk solidified.

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Poaching an egg in boiling water

Nathaniel held his phone in one hand to take a video as he cut the egg with the other hand. I was filming the same scene with my camera. We enjoyed the replay.

 

I requested a chocolate dessert of his choice. As he and I walked to the creek, he was planning the trifle. While chatting with neighbor Marla, he spoke of his plans and invited her to come over when it was ready. We were delayed by several things, so Connie was home from work and able to come for the spontaneous party, too.

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Nathaniel, Connie, and Marla

Nathaniel practiced assembling the trifle in small bowls. I would have plopped the layers in with a spoon, but he did the proper thing of using a pastry bag. Each layer was even, making a pretty picture from the side. For our little group, he used a large bowl. If I knew he would settle near us after college, I’d buy a trifle bowl!

 

 

Supreme an Orange

Grandson Nathaniel had several things going in the kitchen when he picked up an orange. He asked, “Would you like to see me supreme an orange?” (Supreme sounded like “sup prim” to me.) I had no idea what he was talking about. He explained that for presentation, orange slices should have no membrane with them. Hmmmm. Sounded awfully fiddly to me. See if you agree.

He cut both ends off the fruit. Setting the orange on an end, he made a downward slice to remove skin and pith, continuing until the orange was naked.

Holding the orange in his hand, he sliced from the edge to the center. The membrane remained close to his hand. The second cut freed the first slice, which he put in a bowl. He pulled the membrane under his thumb and continued until all the slices had been done. That left only membrane in his left hand. Neat!

 

The miser in me couldn’t watch him throw away those juicy bits, so I ate them. All that was left was the center of the orange and the pretty slices, which were not displayed nicely.

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I asked what he was going to use the fruit for, and he replied that it was just practice for him. Wow!  All that just for practice?  We ate what was left, and we were both happy.

Duck Dinner

Grandson Nathaniel loves a challenge, meaning he is willing to cook anything you desire. John had a longing for duck, and Nate was eager to please his granddad. My photo of the two of them does not show off the food well.

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We sat down to a meal of duck, orange sauce, beet salad, and Nathaniel’s raspberry sorbet. The naked duck looked defenseless in the roasting pan but improved with cooking. The meat was good and provided a reasonable background for Nate’s fabulous orange sauce. He created the sauce and said he should write it down. Indeed, he should! It was the best meat sauce I’ve ever eaten.

Carving the duck was not easy. John provided vocal support as Nathaniel worked with it. The real problem was that there wasn’t much meat. That scrawny duck grudgingly gave us four skimpy servings.

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The beet salad was both lovely and tasty. He roasted the beets, coated them with a light dressing, and added spinach and pecans. I’ve always been fond of beets, and his dish was superb. I’m looking forward to leftovers of that.

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The raspberry sorbet provided the perfect ending to the meal, along with his fresh-ground coffee.  Oh!  How blessed we are when Nathaniel comes to visit!

Asheville Tourists

We enjoyed being tourists in Asheville. At the beginning of our walkabout, we paused for a photo with the iconic iron.

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Grandsons David and Nathaniel

It was a marvelous day to be in the city, because there were not many people about. An herb and spice shop was the only one we spent much time in. The walls were lined with large glass jars full of fragrant powders. The owner said we were welcome to open any of them to smell. John and I sniffed a few, but grandsons David and Nathaniel really went to town.

We ended up in the Arcade, a large old building full of small shops. We had lunch there and could watch people stroll by and look at the merchandise displayed by vendors outside. It was a wonderful day of being together and enjoying each other.

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Poire Belle-Hélène

Grandson Nathaniel saw fruit on our counter and offered to make dessert. I know better than to question his culinary judgment, so I hid my lack of enthusiasm for poached pears. Poached eggs are delicious, but I am not attracted by the word “poached”. It suggests you’ve stolen something and killed it in boiling water. How appetizing is that?

Grandson David commented on the action in the kitchen. “You’re really good at peeling!”

I turned to look. Nathaniel had his own peeler, and the skin was flying. In no time he had the fruit on the stove. Before long he called us to the table. Each whole pear rested beside a scoop of French vanilla ice cream he’d made at college. He drizzled chocolate sauce over the pears, and we sat down to a delectable treat.

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Photo by Nathaniel

He told us the dish was invented by the great French chef, Auguste Escoffier. The formal title is Poire Belle-Hélène, which rolled off his tongue easily. Our dessert tasted as elegant as Nathaniel made it sound.

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Nathaniel taking the photo above

Out-of-Date Bathroom Smells

Misers buy things on sale. Misers also use up a product before opening the replacement one. I have a double whammy now in the bathroom, because I bought two things before Christmas and have now opened them. There is Sugar Plum air freshener, which conjures up Christmas treats. The spray is almost sickeningly sweet. This comes at a time when I should be thinking of clean scents of spring rain and summer flowers.

The new body wash is titled “Mystical Wonderland”. There is a fancy snowflake on the label, but that was not a clue. I have never intentionally sniffed a snowflake. Want to guess what the main smell is in Mystical Wonderland? It’s peppermint! You might as well laugh with me, since I could very well do it again and have out-of-date bathroom scents all year long.

We do have up-to-date rain photos. It rained for days, and when a heavy shower poured on the house, Nathaniel wondered what the creek was like. We don’t often see it just after a shower, so we piled in the car to go look. When we pulled in the firehouse lot, Nathaniel asked if we had an umbrella in the car. We didn’t. He wasn’t going to let a little rain deter him, so he got out with us to stand on the banks of Jonathan creek. The creek was muddy and high.

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I suggested we check the Pigeon River in Clyde. The water was high but nowhere near overflowing the banks. John said we’d look at Richland Creek on the way home. That’s the stream that runs beside the rec center in town. Despite the light rain, we walked to the curve in the stream and saw one bench dipping its toes in the water. We were chilled and happy to get back in the warm car.

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Nathaniel’s shirt doesn’t show the rain.

Our Chef is Back!

Grandson Nathaniel arrived in the wee hours to spend his 10-day Spring break with us. He had a class until 7 pm, and John had a meeting in Asheville. That gave grandson David time to finish work in Waynesville and drive to meet John, so the two of them could go together to Charlotte to fetch the chef-in-training. I didn’t see Nathaniel until morning. He was ready for the day and eager to get a haircut. Barber’s fees are high in Charlotte, so he was quite shaggy. I suggested we do the ritual of the mirror, and then we asked him to do a tall job – freeing a flag that was snagged on the gutter.

Over breakfast I warned Nathaniel to sift the baking powder here before using it. I had gotten a little clump of bitterness in a biscuit a few days ago and knew it was the leavening agent. He launched into a quick explanation, listing the three main ingredients, and the fact that it tends to clump when damp. I was very impressed with the things he already knows.

After lunch Nathaniel served dessert that he had made in school, raspberry sorbet. It survived the three-hour trip and was refrozen. The taste was as intense as the color. Superb! We also tasted the ice cream he brought – Elf’s Eggnog. He not only made the ice cream, but he also designed and printed the labels for it.

Neighbor Logan (8) came over after school. He and Nathaniel had a rousing game of tag. There were shrieks, heavy footsteps, silence as the one who was “it” changed direction, followed by more shouts and running. Once Logan scooted under a chair to evade Nathaniel’s long arm. At the end, they continued the chase, only on their knees. Nate must have been happy that John broke in to ask Logan to read to him. The house was very quiet after Logan left.

I Read a Book!

Despite good intentions, I rarely pick up a book. I read in the blog world, where I lose all sense of time, happily interacting with my friends around the world. When John was away recently, I was determined to read the first of three books friend Nancy sent me — Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe. It was written by Fannie Flagg and published in 1987. The setting of the novel is near Birmingham, Alabama, which is only a few hours away from my hometown. Reading that book was like visiting with friends of friends. I didn’t meet anyone I knew, but many of the characters reminded me of people in my past.

Marking my place was a bookmark neighbor Connie made for me. What a delight it was to use it! I saw it often on my bedside table, but I loved putting it to work and handling it often. Maybe the bookmark will inspire me to keep reading, even if only for a few minutes each day.

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