I tell folks that I now have two homes (read on for more) and yesterday I spent Mother’s Day at both of them, but not in the kitchen. Lucky me!
Some folks own summer homes that they visit (think picturesque Cape Cod) while escaping the insane weather of their permanent residence (think sweltering Florida). Ditto for folks who own winter homes that they visit (think balmy Hilton Head) who are trying to escape the insane weather of their permanent residence (think snowy upstate New York). I’ve often wished I owned a retreat—an oceanfront condo, a home by the lake or a chalet in the mountains—just to get away from it all.
But these are the facts: I have only one home—or at least, only one home that hubby Russell and I pay a mortgage on. However, lately it’s occurred to me that I actually have two homes. The second home is simply my parents’ home and it’s a very nice one indeed—a charming brick ranch on a winding road with a rich green lawn that’s perfectly manicured and dotted with stunning dogwoods, camellias and azaleas.
For a while now I’ve been visiting my folks each week and staying a couple of nights, since I’ve got the time to spare and a few skills they need. I’ll bet it’s safe to say many of us baby boomers are doing the same thing. But this situation of two homes does present a few dilemmas, starting with the kitchen.
I realize a true chef can cook in any situation: a Viking stove is top of the line, but a little camp stove can produce the same results. In fact their ceramic cook top compares easily to my GE with traditional burners. As for pots and pans, I have my favorites at home, especially my Calphalon cookware. But at their house, I’ve adapted and learned which pot bottoms burn faster, which Dutch oven holds more and which cookie sheet will warp and ‘pop’ in the oven. Other appliances are similar, say the refrigerator. But their dishwasher gets scalding hot and the dishes takes forever to cool down. The layout of the two kitchens is similar; but neither form that perfect triangle that TV chefs tell us are imperative. Oh, HOW DO we do it without ‘their’ suggested streamlined engineering? And once again, who are ‘they’ exactly?
Grocery shopping for two different homes is a real challenge. Where my folks live, there’s only two choices of grocery chains and personally, neither are my favorites. I once asked one of these clerks where to find sesame oil. He was clueless. “Ah, well, truth is, we have oil (which sounded like ‘Earl’ to me) and we have sesame seeds; but we don’t have sesame earl.” Brother! It’s a military town, so I’m surprised other foodies or even world-class travelers living there can cope with this atrocious deficit. Quite frankly, I don’t think they do, as I’ve been told that many shop out of town.
But what is downright comical in keeping two kitchens stocked is keeping the purchases straight. Am I out of chicken breasts or did I buy an extra? What about frozen peas? And since both homes have two freezers (an extra in my garage and an extra in their utility room); there’s four places to search. The scene plays out like this: I’m half way through shredding the cabbage there and then remember the Marzetti dressing is here. Or I’m ready to fold in the Cool Whip, and it’s here instead of there. And forget about having the recipe at the right house.
My sisters, Cathy and Nancy also visit often as they too live out of town. My brother Steve lives just minutes away. So this year, when Mother’s Day rolled around we made plans for everyone to share a celebratory meal together. We thought (briefly) of cooking at my parent’s home, but quickly came to our senses, considering the above. Instead, I implemented that popular quote that I’ve seen on countless cross stitch patterns, kitchen towels and wooden plaques: “When it comes to cooking, I’m going to make the one thing that I do best: Reservations.” And that’s exactly what I did.
Ann Ipock “Life Is Short, So Read This Fast!” www.annipock.com amipock@ec.rr.com