SC - goodbye, farewell, and one last recipe...
kat
kat at kagan.com
Wed Dec 1 14:36:20 PST 1999
OK; I've reached the conclusion that 92 digests unread is just way too
much. (Actually, yesterday when I reached that conclusion, it was only 87
unread digests; but what the hey... <G>)
So I guess I'm going to have to unsubscribe for the time being. I don't
really know why it hasn't been a priority to read these things and why I've
just left them piling up this way; but it's been the better part of a year
that I've been behind on the list; and in the last couple of weeks since
I'd given up trying at all I've gotten another 30 digests... it's just too
much.
I will miss all of you--I've learned so much from you in the past couple of
years; it's been like taking a master class in period cooking, liberally
laced with doses of silliness. (OK, sometimes TOO liberally; but who am I
to complain? I participated too...)
Adamantius and Bear and Ras, I will miss your wisdom. Poppa Gunthar, I
will miss your guiding hand. And all the dozens of Wise Women on the
list--I hope you know I've always thought of you all as that--Mordonna, all
the Philippas, Anne-Marie, Aoife, Elysant and a whole host of others whose
names are too numerous to mention--I'll miss all of you too. I'll miss
Puck's silliness and Stefan's thoughtful followups to the posts that got
otherwise ignored or lost in the shuffle. Ras and Phlip, I hope you worked
things out.
What I won't miss (you knew this was coming, didn't you) is the legitimate
period-cooking questions, ones I'd also love to hear answers to, that get
no responses because we're too busy giggling about reproductive-organ
recipes or Twinkies or whatever. Yes, I'm guilty of it too. And I won't
miss the repetitive requests to repost something to a high-volume list
because you deleted it because the list volume was too high.
But on the whole, my life will be less illuminated and my job a whole lot
more boring without the Cooks List. :-) Please take these things in the
spirit of love--which is how they're meant--and know that I truly wish you
all a fond farewell. I'll try to come back sometime, if I can--someone
please keep my email addy and let me know if the list ever gets less
fluffy.
Big hugs to all of you, and happy holidays. And a recipe. ;-)
- kat
Since it's the holidays, here's my mom's (and presumably her mom's)
cornbread stuffing/dressing recipe, just EXACTLY as they used to make it:
2 pans cornbread, baked and cooled.
2 bags stuffing cubes (one seasoned, one not)
1 entire stalk celery (lots of leaves)
2-3 large onions
1/2 lb. mild pork sausage (Farmer John's is best)
Chicken stock
Water
Parsley
Sage
Savory
Make one pan of fresh cornbread; leave in kitchen to cool. Come back into
kitchen; find empty pan and guilty faces. Make second pan of cornbread,
liberally laced with hands-off threats.
In the meantime, set one of your children to chopping onions and celery
(keep them separate). In your largest cast-iron pan, start browning
sausage on medium; break up into small pieces. Add onions, cook till
transparent; then add celery. When celery has wilted, add equal parts
chicken stock and water; plus sage, savory and parsley. Simmer for quite
some time--probably until second pan of cornbread is done.
Shred cornbread into your largest mixing bowl. Add both bags of cubes,
reserving a large handful. Realize bowl is too small; put about half into
another large bowl. Slowly stir in sausage/veggie/liquid mixture, trying
to get an even amount into each bowl. If mixture is too dry, add
additional chicken stock.
Get as much stuffing as you can into turkey. Swear every time a little
hits the floor or every time the turkey slips. Put leftover stuffing into
a series of casserole dishes (tucking in extra things like oysters or
liver, if you want to really disgust your children) and scatter reserved
bread cubes over tops of casseroles. Try to find room in fridge for
casseroles; swear some more. Put turkey in oven. Go to bed. Get up every
2-3 hours and baste turkey. It'll be done by the time the parade comes on
Thanksgiving morning; or by the time the stockings are emptied Christmas
Day.
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