Posted tagged ‘bacon’

“He shoveled the bacon out on a plate and broke the eggs in the hot grease and they jumped and fluttered their edges to brown lace and made clucking sounds.”

February 11, 2018

Today is a dismal dark day. The rain started last night around eleven, and it’s still raining.  The weather report says rain on and off for most of the day. The only saving grace is the warmth. It is 47˚. I have to go to the dump. I’m thinking it will be quiet. The rain keeps people away.

When I was a kid, I mostly walked to church on Sundays. Sometimes, though, I’d go with my father to an early mass where he was an usher. I always wished I was an usher, but only men were ushers. My father stood in the back of the church waiting until the right time to pass his basket. He never kneeled. The baskets were at the end of a long pole which reached to the halfway point of the pew. My father would pass the basket then move to the other side of the church to get the rest of the pew. I always had a dime for the offering. After church my dad bought his paper from the guy in front of the church who was always there. The guy had a gray cart with a cover so he could protect his papers from the rain. After that my father and I sometimes went to get donuts to bring home. My father only ate plain donuts which he buttered. He’d also buy jelly, lemon and glazed donuts. I loved butternut, but he never remembered. My father kept with the traditional donuts. It made choosing easy.

I love eggs and their versatility. My favorite breakfast is two eggs over easy, crispy bacon and toast, usually rye. Eggs are often dinner for me, and once in a while I make an egg salad, but only if I have celery and lettuce to add as egg salad by itself is a bit bland. I love deviled eggs. My mother made them for all her barbecues, and my friend Clare often does the same. Most people have a favorite recipe for potato salad, but for just about every recipe, eggs are a critical ingredient. Coloring Easter eggs is a family tradition. You not only get to decorate the hard-boiled eggs but you also get to eat them.

St. Patrick’s drill team used to take part in the Halloween parade in Woburn, a town next to my own. We all hated marching in it because during the parade we’d get egged. I remember getting hit in the leg and having the egg slide down into my boot. It was gross marching on shells and uncooked eggs. I was glad when the decision was made not to march.

In Ghana I was close up and personal with eggs. I had chickens, and I also bought eggs in the market and sometimes from some small girls selling door to door. If I wasn’t careful in buying the eggs, I’d sometimes crack an egg the chicken had sat on for a bit. I was never bothered by that. It was just the way it was in Ghana sometimes.

“Fine, but if and when the zombies team up with the mummies to take over the world, you can’t live in my underground bunker.”

June 24, 2017

The air is damp and chilly. The day is so dark that Gracie’s lights came on when she was in the backyard. There is a constant breeze which sometimes blows hard enough to be a wind. It is not an inviting day. The birds sang earlier, but they are gone now. Everything is quiet. Gracie is in her crate sleeping. Maddie is standing under the table lamp getting warm. Her fur is hot to the touch. Animals know how to tbe comfortable.

I have to get more dog food so I’ll be going out later. Other than that, my dance card is empty. I did my laundry yesterday, a huge accomplishment for me as I usually leave it in the hall long enough for the dirty clothes to double in number. I do admit, though, that the clean clothes didn’t make it upstairs yet. They’re on a living room chair. They’ll go up today, maybe.

I fell asleep early last night. The TV and all the lights were left on until about 1:30 when I woke up. I then took Gracie out to pee. I couldn’t even see the house next door in the deep darkness.

Oops, my lights just went out for a minute, long enough that I have to reset appliances and my cable box has to reboot. It has also started raining. At first it was a mist, but it’s now a heavy rain. I can hear it against the windows, and I can see a sheet of rain falling off the eaves outside my den window. The day has become even less inviting.

Last night I made a divine supper sandwich. I toasted English muffins, slathered them with guacamole and then added tomatoes, bacon, and eggs. Every bite was delicious though a bit messy. I blame that on the eggs.

I wonder how much longer the zombie fad will last. It took a while for the undead to take over from vampires, but they did, big time. I’m figuring animals, as in The Zoo, are the next threat to humanity’s survival, but, if that doesn’t work, we can always go back to hostile aliens. They never go out of style.

 

“If anyone does not have three minutes in his life to make an omelette, then life is not worth living.”

February 26, 2017

Today is a bit cooler than yesterday, but it is sunny and bright with only a few clouds moving across the blue sky. It is a pretty day.

It was a leisurely morning. I had an extra cup of coffee and read most of the Globe. I’ll get to the Cape Times later.

I really love breakfast, especially eggs and bacon. When I go out, I get my eggs over easy and my bacon crisp. Nothing is worse than undercooked bacon. I also order rye or wheat toast, a necessity for sopping up the yoke spread on the plate. When I have nothing defrosted or planned for dinner, I always have eggs. Sometimes I make omelets with cheese and jalapeño and maybe a bit of ham if I have any. Most times, though, I cook my eggs over easy. I usually break a yolk.

When my parents and I traveled together, my father hated breakfast in most countries, England and Ireland being the exceptions. He said he didn’t want lunch for breakfast, didn’t want the cold cuts and cheeses my mother and I loved. In the Netherlands, at one hotel, they served an egg in an egg cup. My father was gleeful. He took his knife to lop off the top of the egg but the egg shell stayed intact. He tried again which was when he noticed the shell was broken. It was a hard-boiled egg. My mother and I felt bad for him. The poor man had such a look of disappointment.

I always had two eggs and two pieces of toast for breakfast in Ghana. The eggs were fried in peanut oil, groundnut oil to the Ghanaians. It added a wonderful taste to the eggs. When I came home, it took me a while to get used to the bland fried eggs.

I love deviled eggs. My mother made them for almost every barbecue. My friend Clare often makes them. I never make them myself, and I haven’t any idea why.

It is almost Cadbury egg day. The fried egg chocolate was the one I used to eat until the caramel and the chocolate eggs appeared. They are my favorites. In my Easter basket one year, my mother tucked in a small Matchbook size of the Cadbury creme egg car. It sits on the shelf in here next to the Spam car.

Okay, all this talk of eggs has made me hungry.

“Hope Smiles from the threshold of the year to come, Whispering ‘it will be happier’…”

December 31, 2016

Today is a bit gloomy. I suppose it is a perfect day to end the year, almost a lament of the passing of time, not cheery and sunny, but gloomy and dark. It was cold this morning but the day will be warmer, in the mid 40’s, but I don’t mind one or the other as I have no plans to go anywhere. Warm inside is fine for me.

When I go out to eat, I often order a cheeseburger. If I can, I add bacon. That has been my favorite burger as long as I can remember. When I was in high school, I’d go to the A&W drive up restaurant and order my bacon cheeseburger. It was always scrumptious, loaded with cheese and covered with slices of well-cooked bacon. I mourned when the A&W in West Yarmouth closed. Gone was the burger and gone was the last restaurant with car service.

I am sorry to see only a few remnants of my childhood. Most drive-ins have been sold for the land, Woolworth’s and Grants are no longer the stores in the square, the ice cream man and his bell are just memories, the Saturday matinee is long gone as are Friday night dates at the bowling alley, candlepin bowling, small balls, three to a frame. We’d usually bowl three games, and we were terrible. I was the queen of gutter balls.

My town didn’t have a McDonald’s or a Burger King. It had a Carroll’s with its 15¢ hamburgers and 12¢ fries. Carroll’s was built where there used to be a train ride for little kids and where Papa Gino’s is today. It is at the far end of a parking lot which has the China Moon and Hago Harrington’s miniature golf course bordering it, both of which have been around as long as I can remember. Until recently the China Moon looked exactly the same inside as it always had with its vinyl booths and Chinese lantern lights. It is now undergoing renovation which I find sad. I loved that it hadn’t changed in all these years. It had a personality, probably gone now.

I have no idea what this new year will bring. My only hope is it will be a better year than last.

Happy New Year!!

I still love making hamburgers on the grill. I guess whenever I eat them childhood memories come up for me.”

May 12, 2015

Last night was hot and muggy. Poor Gracie was panting so I turned the AC on in my bedroom. It was a delight feeling the chill, and we both slept deeply. Today is sunny but cool and tonight will be back to the 40’s. It rained sometime earlier this morning. I know only because the street was still wet when I woke up.

My mother cooked hamburger more than any other kind of meat. It was the cheapest and the most versatile. My favorite was always her meatloaf. From meal to meal it never really tasted the same. I know it had eggs and breadcrumbs but I have no idea what else she threw in for flavor. In those days herbs came from a bottle. My mother always had onion and garlic powder on hand as well as oregano and parsley. Sometimes her meatloaf had ketchup spread across the top with bacon strips covering the ketchup. We always wanted a piece with the crusty bacon. Sometimes she frosted the meatloaf with mashed potatoes and then would brown the tips in the oven. Every now and then we’d get a round meatloaf hand-formed and placed in a pie pan to cook.

We always thought ourselves quite the gourmands when my mother cooked her Chinese food. We had a chop suey sort of dish with hamburger, bean sprouts and water chestnuts. My mother always put crunchy chow mein noodles on the top. Then there was American chop suey, a name which still perplexes me today. It has nothing to do with chop suey; instead, it’s elbow macaroni, hamburger, tomato sauce and onions and peppers. My mother would sprinkle parmesan cheese from the green container on top.

Hamburgers were a summer staple grilled to perfection by my dad. I always wanted a cheeseburger, and my father would open the cellophane covering each piece of yellow cheese and crown the meat with the cheese. He’d put the top on the grill so the cheese would melt. My mother usually made potato salad. It didn’t matter how often we had hamburgers and hot dogs in the summer. I would have eaten them every night without complaint.

I think my mother was a bit of a magician in the kitchen. We never thought of how often we ate hamburger. All of those dishes tasted different to us and a couple were even exotic.

“Poor, dear, silly Spring, preparing her annual surprise! “

March 8, 2015

When I went to get the papers, I could hear a bird singing. Its song was so beautiful I stood outside in the cold to listen. All of a sudden it was a spring morning when every bird greets the first light of day and the air is filled with music. This one bird is the beginning of that chorus. Though it was perched on a branch covered in snow, it still found reason to sing. The bird had found its own spring. Now I’m looking for mine.

Warmer weather is on the way. I used to think warmer was the 40’s this time of year. Now I’m happy with above freezing. Yesterday, a sunny day, I could hear the snow slide off the roof and fall to the deck. The thick icicle on my outside front lamp has melted and only a few icicles are left hanging off the edge of the house. Maybe, just maybe, we’re starting to turn the corner from one season to another.

Gracie and I are doing some errands today. She gets her dump run, her stop for dog food, and I get my stop for human food. Tonight is our Amazing Race night. We DVR it on Fridays and do our traditional Sundays starting with games and appetizers and ending with the Race and dessert. I’m the designated appetizer server. We’re having one with apples, walnuts, honey and cheese; another, a hot appetizer, with cherry tomatoes, bacon, mozzarella and goat cheese and, if I have the time and energy, a third with feta, tomatoes and scallions. They all sound so delicious on paper I hope they translate well to real life.

This is a quiet week for me. Last week was totally busy with something every day except the storm day. This week I am booked for a couple of hours of PT and lunch with a friend. That’s it for the whole week so I am adding a bit of excitement by trying a new spot for lunch. I also need to buy a new toilet seat. My cup runneth over with delight.