my coice

I think I have figured out why cooks like to cook.

Not professional cooks, poor dears, but those amateurs who cook for their families.

The secret: They get to cook what they like (mostly).

I don’t really like peas, I know, it is a character flaw, and my mom would be aghast, but I just don’t like the little buggers (usually). Creamed fresh peas with new small potatoes and step back, but that is different.

Long before Miriam stopped cooking, I would do the grocery store detail. She would go with me and follow along, but the organization of the store was way more than she could understand or handle.

So she would put “frozen peas” on the shopping list. I would “forget” to buy them and then destroy the list in case she wanted to check on me.

One of my daughter took after her father. She loves good cookies, and let me tell you, NO ONE makes better cookies than that fair lass. Not only do they taste good, but every one is exactly the same size and color. I am always amazed to watch her (and to check the samples).

My friend David does not like Rhubarb, so I make it just for me and my dear one. David is gone, but if he was here, he would let me eat it all. Rhubarb is an all or nothing kind of thing. Those that like it have trouble getting enough and those that do not do not.

Same for Asparagus and Parsnips.

I mention Parsnips because that seems to be on a lot of “not me” lists.

Meanwhile, my church group is having a potluck today. I will bring my signature scalloped potatoes, and rhubarb crisp and a loaf of “Mediterranean Black Olive Bread.”

Never tried that one before but so far it looks pretty good.

The recipe says not to even think of using canned olives, but to go to the olive store and buy some real olives.

In rural idaho, an olive store?

Would Sage brush leaves work?