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The Kitchen Madonna Cleans Out Her Refrigerator June 28th, 2006 When I started cleaning out my refrigerator this morning, I had no idea there would be a BLT story lurking amongst the weeks-old tofu, the cheese on the verge of antibiotic-hood, and aged beef broth that no Julia Child would add to anything French and made better by age. All it takes is getting a little slap happy with more than a little ammonia. I had just intended to wipe a bit in the refrigerator because I was wiping down the kitchen cabinets, and the ammonia and rag were already in my hand. I was just going to hit the high spots. And there it was. The opened package of bacon that had been opened days ago. So I promptly got out my biggest cast iron skillet, cut the entire slab in half, angled in bacon slab by slab, and then added my mama's trick: I put paper towels on top and then my smaller, flat cast iron lid. Smaller because it fits inside the biggest skillet. This little known secret cooks the bacon to perfection; all of the fat gets evenly cooked, and it is nice and flat. Perfect for a BLT. She discovered this trick when she was staying at my house while I was cruising the Eastern Mediterranean. Somebody needed to be frugal at that moment instead of running out and buying some premium bacon flattening implement from an upscale kitchen emporium. But I kept pulling out food, setting some aside to be cooked like the cabbage and some to be thrown away. Before I knew it, I was hauling out the shelves and was at wide open, full-cleaning throttle. When I got to the freezer, I found some frozen pork neck bones. I decided I might as well go ahead and defrost them and cook some dried black eyed peas. Adding olive oil, kosher salt, and onion of course. A pattern was beginning to emerge: cooked cabbage and black eyed peas. I could feel a Southern soul-food dinner coming on. All because I had a rag in one hand and ammonia in the other. But it gets better. I realized I had to go to the grocery store to purchase some juicy tomatoes. I simply didn't have time to go to the farmer's market. Alas. That would have made some premium BLT's. So there I am at at my local grocery store, the one I've been driving to since I was in high school, and they have a great sale on fresh green beans and squash. Who can resist? Their prices are almost farmer's market as is the quality. So I bag those up and buy some iceberg lettuce because no self respecting BLT should have otherwise. Then off to the best bakery in town for some sourdough rye bread whose fifth ingredient is sauerkraut. You can't believe how moist and tasty that is, contrasting with crunchy caraway seeds. Now comes the human element, sandwiched in with the mayonnaise and the toasting rye bread. I called one of my several red headed girlfriends - when we all get together it is a riot - and asked if she'd like a BLT. She zoomed right over. When she saw the drying produce bins and shelves, she exploded into laughter at my throwing away food and cleaning on the one hand and cooking up food on the other. She really likes to goad me, telling me I'm not demure when I say I am, saying my house is not immaculate when it is. What can you expect from a less than cherubic, somewhat twisted twin? “KM, it looks like you got the brakes on with one foot, and the accelerator on with the other!” Whereupon I calmly replied, “Either shut up and enjoy it or leave!” I just held up a slice of rye bread - toasted to perfection - and slowly and repetitively kept swirling the mayonnaise around and around until she could no longer stand the KM torture treatment. She sat down. So at some point, somebody would have to come over and help me eat the cooked cabbage (with butter, olive oil, and dill weed), black-eyed peas, squash casserole, and green beans. I offered this feast to a gentleman caller but I had given him a choice of soul food or vegetable lasagna. He chose the lasagna. So I just ended up with more food to share. With the other, calmer red-headed girlfriend. All because I had a rag in one hand and the ammonia in the other. I guess the spiritual life, when you are really cooking on all four burners, is like this. You got to throw out the bad to make room for the good. You got to put the brakes on the bad habits with one foot, while you accelerate the virtues with the other - at different times of course or you'll make the police and your confessor a little mad. Confession gets rid of lots of overripe avocados and slimy green bean casserole. Makes room for those virtuous BLT's which are really good to share. If squash casserole is a virtue, which one would it be? © 2006 The Kitchen Madonna |
