Cookbook Guilt

My poor cookbooks are feeling unloved, I just know they are.  They remind me of  toys that have been outgrown and set aside. Nope,  I haven't stopped cooking (yet). I use the internet now, it's so much easier to find what I am looking for on here. 

Before http://www.allrecipes.com/, I spent hours looking through the books, figuring out which recipes were worth a try. Now after keying in the ingredients I want and those I don't (some people in the house will not eat black olives or mushrooms), I do a quick search, look at the ratings and reviews and voila; decision made no muss, no fuss, something new and different.

Well, to be honest there usually is a fuss, or at least a grumble or two.  We, (I use the "we" loosely) do not like change in the Cagle household. "We" prefer to eat the same things week in, week out.  As chief cook, I am, in the words of former President Bush "the decider" and at least once or twice weekly, I put a new dish on the table.  Sometimes I follow the recipe to the letter and others I might tweak. Allrecipes review system  allows users to give advice. One thing that drives me crazy about it is how many reviewers will have changed the recipe so significantly that it barely resembles the original, and then give it a poor rating. People please, if you didn't follow it,  don't comment on it or rate it.  

When I began using the computer to find recipes, it felt like I was cheating on my cookbooks.  The books used to be out on my shelves ready  for daily duty, potluck searches, and special occasion meals. At first it was only every once in a while when nothing in the book seemed to fit the bill, but my usage became more frequent. I would find myself searching just because I could.  After several months when the guilt was more than I could take, I moved the books behind the closed doors of the buffet table cabinets.

 There are couple of recipes that still come from the books and when I open those doors to pull a cookbook out,  it makes me a little sad to see the splattered, stained and worn pages no longer being used.  Most of the meals I make don't require recipes to be pulled anymore, I've prepared them so often that I just know what to do. Most of what I learned about meal preparation came from those cookbooks;  as a new bride I studied the conversion charts, the cooking methods, the terms and tips that were in the back pages. 

I still cherish my cookbooks.  I just can't face them on a daily basis.

The "Fun"draiser

Last night we worked a fundraiser for "People First of Henry County", a great cause with a great community response.  It was organized by my mother-in-law and she asked us to help. Her step-son, Ricky, is a huge supporter of the group which organizes socials and activities for special needs adults.

It turns out people are well, let's just say interesting. As I doled out noodles and dipped sauce, I was confounded, astounded and left shaking my head at some folks. Several individuals were recruited to bring in crock pots of sauce and some of those individuals would ONLY eat the sauce they brought.  While we were dipping from my crockpot one of those people came up... "I can only eat the sauce I brought" she said as she began to dip from my pot.  I said, "that one is the one I made". She then argued with me over the crockpots and came behind the serving line to show me.  I don't understand why, if it was such a big deal to her, she didn't just keep a bit out in a separate dish for herself. Makes sense doesn't it? Finally, she realized that the dish we were serving was not hers.


Then there was the woman whose sauce had to have sugar in it. I told her, "I'm sorry I don't know how everyone prepared the sauces". Some wanted meatless sauce, some wanted the bread far, far away from the sauce. Some wondered if all we had was spaghetti, as if the ticket stating "spaghetti dinner" was lying. If I were dining at a five star restaurant I'd expect exceptional service and an ability to make special requests, but this was a $5 a plate SPAGHETTI dinner. We had spaghetti, spaghetti and ummmmm more spaghetti. 

We filled each plate, gave a salad and directions to desserts. We had been informed to tell folks to go through the door and pick whichever sweet thing you'd like.  Somehow, the self imposed Dessert Nazi missed the memo and was directing people to the desserts of HER choice for them.  She was saving the prettiest and best to auction off (her own last minute idea). This didn't set well with Ricky and his belief that the people who made the sweets intended for them to be eaten with this meal. So, after more than one attempt at reasoning with her, he took matters into his own hands, literally.  While the Dessert Nazi was distracted, Ricky, knife in hand set out to slice each cake, pie and cookie bar on the table. The effort was a sweet success.

It was all in all a lot of fun and raised enough money to provide a nice prom and maybe an excursion or two.