Summer vs outdoor kitchens…

Is there a difference between summer and outdoor kitchens? The answer is yes. 

Summer kitchens originated in our country back in the early 1800s. Wealthy plantation owners built summer kitchens away from the main house on their property. The structures were usually made of timber, rocks, and bricks.

Its purpose was to keep slaves and servants away from the main house while having a place to cook and prepare large meals for everyone on the plantation.

Another practical reason for the owners to have summer kitchens was to keep smoke, and strong cooking smells out of their homes and keep the homes cooler in the hot months.

For the similar practical reasons, summer kitchens became popular in New England and New York. Outdoor kitchens weren’t just for wealthy plantation owners anymore; regular working-class people built summer kitchens on their properties. 

Settlers that headed west brought the idea of summer kitchens along with them. They became prevalent in the midwest.

Summer kitchens were practical, especially when it came to harvest time. They were cooler and roomier to fit more people than the small kitchens in their homes.

The proverbial phrase many hands make light work made it possible for groups of women to work together processing and to can food for the winter months ahead.

With the introduction of modern ovens and air conditioning, summer kitchens were no longer desired and petered out; however, many people in the mid-west still have and use theirs. 

A modern summer kitchen.

As far as real estate is concerned, the remains of old and historic rock or brick summer kitchens are a valuable asset to properties. They are sometimes made into sheds, workshops, or yoga studios.

After summer kitchens became a thing of the past and after World War 2 ended, the company Weber introduced their first home grill in the early 1950s. The grill was promoted as “Backyard fun” for the family. Beer, drink, food and snack manufacturers jumped on the bandwagon with this promotional idea to be part of the backyard fun. 

Most families had grilling and picnic areas in their backyards but not nothing compared to an outdoor or summer kitchen. We know the “man of the house” did the grilling while the woman did everything else for a cookout. Why did they think someone who had no experience or knowledge of cooking regularly like the woman of the house did was in charge of grilling the main part of the meal?

See how the woman is doing everything else? 😜

To back this up, most of the cookouts I went to as a kid had black hotdogs, burgers as dry as hockey pucks, and chicken either burned beyond recognition or raw in the middle. I rest my case!

For the same reason, I will never understand why the man of the house carved the Thanksgiving turkey? Was it done out of honor? Was it too dangerous for a woman to use a carving knife? Was she too intimated or ladylike? 🤔

Back to the topic on hand, I believe in giving credit where credit is due. The Food Network is what sparked America’s love of home cooking and grilling in the mid 1980s. It all started with Emeril Lagasse’s show How to Boil Water. Viewers were mesmerized by watching celebrity chefs cooking and grilling outdoors; of course, they wanted to do the same thing.

This type of cooking was making real food for real people and educating them simultaneously. Viewers didn’t feel intimated like they did by French cooking programs on television and could prepare the dishes they learned any night of the week. I believe it was the birth of the modern outdoor kitchen craze. The rest is history.

Ok, so what is an outdoor kitchen? A place to serve drinks & cocktails, make pizzas, grill, and entertain friends and family when the weather is nice. 

Modern outdoor kitchens have sinks and sometimes dishwashers. Most of them have high-end grills and small appliances such as refrigerators, kegerators, and wine fridges. Many have authentic pizza ovens brought over from Italy.

These gorgeous, fully covered outdoor kitchens can also have fireplaces, large flat-screen TVs, and various sectional seating areas. It is truly a living and entertaining extension of someone’s home.

We had a lot to consider when we were in the planning and designing stages of our outdoor kitchen back in 2020 at the beginning of the pandemic.

While I love those incredible outdoor kitchens, we knew that wasn’t us or suitable for our property. The cost was another issue. 

We knew we wanted an outdoor kitchen for cooking, grilling, frying, smoking meats, and making pizzas with a large prep area. 

It turns out our once referred to as our “outdoor kitchen” is more of a summer kitchen. It is set up for functionality and cookery, not for entertainment or show. This was not a priority for us since we rarely entertain or have company.

We use our summer kitchen as often as possible. We have pretty shitty weather here in VT a lot of the time, so we love spending as much time outdoors as possible.

Our summer kitchen is an uncovered, open-air kitchen with all commercial equipment. It is practical for me to cook, fry, and grill outdoors to keep the heat, smoke, and strong smells out of the house, just like back in the old days.

Marty was able to find all of our outdoor commercial equipment and work tables on Facebook Marketplace for ridiculously low prices. 

There is a two-burner stove, a flat top grill, and an infrared grill. We have a small commercial fryer and a small, portable pizza oven we use often. We made sure to have lots of prep space so more than one person could be working in the kitchen at the same time.

We still use the summer kitchen for grilling in the winter months even though the other equipment is covered up. I have grilled in torrential downpours and snow storms wearing snow boots since the snow was up to my knees. 

Last night, I used the summer kitchen to make a meal I usually cook indoors in cast iron pans. It made total sense to use the grill as a stove and cook dinner outside on a beautiful evening. 

Our summer kitchen isn’t fancy-schmancy like outdoor kitchens, but it’s a well-designed, hip, and functional space to make some kick-ass food in the great outdoors. 

Friday front porch supper…

Chicken Marsala with Rice Pilaf & Green Beans.

Friday nights are our favorite night of the week to sit on our front porch and watch all the campers, tourists, and the weekend hustle and bustle go by.

I hurried today to be done with work and my chores by 5 pm or also known as happy hour.

I went straight from the production kitchen to making deliveries to three of our local wholesale customers. I had to stop to get a few groceries for the weekend.

As soon as I walked into the crowded store I thought, ”Kill me now and put me out of misery!” Ugh! I got what I needed, minus a few items the store was out of and got the hell out of there asap.

Not that I am complaining one bit, but the forecasted rainy day turned out to be glorious! I got sidetracked from my chores to take a swim then got cracking.

I wanted to make something easy to eat on the porch. So instead of leaving the chicken breasts whole, I cut them into strips for chicken marsala. No knives necessary. Boom!

Some rice pilaf and fresh green beans made for a fine Friday night porch supper.

It’s going to be an early night; we are up before the ass-crack of dawn tomorrow at 4:30 am to get ready for our farmers market in Troy, NY.

I just looked at the time and it is 8:45 pm and is still daylight! I wait all year for this.

Goodnight everyone I’ll catch up with you soon. 😴

Très magnifique…

I would consider myself a francophile. I love French cooking. I also love French decor items, cookware, china, and furniture. My favorite place in the world and on my short bucket list of places to visit is Paris.

One of my good friends is moving back to France after living there on and off again for 40 years. She packed up some things to be shipped over and got rid of the rest of her stuff. She was starting over. Many of the pieces of furniture came from France and were shipped over to the US many years ago.

By a twist of fate, I was lucky enough to have two pieces of French antique bedroom furniture from her childhood. The pieces are petit but so is our bedroom.

A couple of years ago, when we painted and redecorated our bedroom, we sold our enormous furniture and picked up two small dressers secondhand. I have found that I missed all that storage in our bedroom and could never find anything in my dark closet.

Now, I have a “new” French armoire and a make-up vanity. I’ve wanted a vanity like this for decades! The two pieces fit our bedroom perfectly and look like they belong there, as if they’ve been there all along.

I love the stool to the vanity and it’s so comfy!

I also adopted my friend’s large rosemary plant she’s had for years, taking it in during the winter and putting it outside in the summer. She was going to leave it behind but asked if I wanted it. Of course, I would take it!

Fingers crossed I don’t kill her plant.

The plant is so aromatic you can smell it as you walk by it, and I cook a lot with rosemary. I hope to keep it alive and happy; I will try my best after asking her how to care for it.

Our bedroom is my little piece of France right here in Vermont. It feels like a small apartment bedroom in Paris. I love it! I am glad Marty likes it, too, even though it is on the feminine side. Nothing else in our house is girlie or frilly, but our bedroom is the one exception.

My friend purchased a new home in France with plenty of room for guests. We have a standing invitation anytime we can get to France. Plus, I could have a tour guide show me the ropes in Paris and not be disappointed by tourist traps.

Even though I didn’t see my friend often, catching up when we picked up my new Parisian furniture was a sweet goodbye. I’ll miss her, but I know France is where her heart is.

Vive la France! 🇫🇷

Memorial Day…

It’s another gorgeous day here in Vermont on Memorial Day. We have been sitting on the front porch having coffee, enjoying the sunshine and watching the world go by. I should say flying by because people drive 20 mph over the speed limit all the time.

It just doesn’t feel right posting about food or any other stupid shit about my life today.

I am not ”that guy” that posts on my Facebook wall a ”Happy whatever the fuck” to all my Facebook friends, although I have to say its good to see the people who only post on holidays are still alive and well.

Today isn’t about food, drinks, bbq, parties, the kick-off to summer, or the official “it’s ok to wear white pants now” its about honoring and remembering the brave men and women who gave their lives for us.

These are the men and women who give us the freedom to celebrate anyway we wish today or any day including wearing white pants and linen all year.

With all my heart and sincerity, thank you. 🇺🇸

Bananas for oranges…

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve loved orange-flavored things to eat and smell. Last year, I wrote about an Italian Ice stand in Elizabeth, NJ my father used to take me. An older Italian woman made and sold both lemon and orange Italian Ice. Here is the link to that blog post about Catherine and a photo of her Italian Ice shack.

The Italian ice stand was located in the Italian section of Elizabeth called Peterstown, where both my parents grew up. People stood in line for blocks to get some Italian ice on a hot summer night. I always picked orange, and my dad always picked lemon.

I loved that there were pits in the ice which collected at the bottom of the white paper cup, which I spit one by one seeing how far they would go. My mother would have never allowed this kind of behavior; hell, I got slapped and yelled at for blowing bubbles in my chocolate milk whenever we ate at a diner, the only place I drank chocolate milk with a straw.

I still like to blow bubbles in my chocolate milk, and it has never bubbled over. As an adult I can’t understand the big deal; neither of my boys even wanted to blow bubbles in their milk so I never got to “let” them do it.

Last week, at our farmers market in Troy, NY, I sampled a tiny bit of orangecello from a new vendor two spots down from us. I am a big fan of limoncello and used to make it often; in fact, I have a bottle in the bar fridge right now. But the orangecello? Holy moly, it was like having that Italian ice again, but even better because it has booze in it!

I didn’t even ask how much it was and bought a bottle. I, the frugal cook and shopper, was ready to pay whatever the cost. It was a little high, but this is strictly for sipping straight up and respecting the liquor.

Here is the weird part, to me anyway, the Italian ice stand in Elizabeth was owned and operated by the Di Cosmo family. The orangecello is made by a chef from Villa di Como in Italy along with a variety of sauces and oils.

Yesterday, we were on the road making deliveries, our first stop was in Clifton Park, NY. We went to 518 Donuts, a shop that sells gluten-free fried chicken and gluten-free donuts. The business owners have so much passion and are super friendly.

They have committed to the seriousness and safety making sure there is no cross-contamination occurring between their regular high-end donuts and the gluten-free ones. High-end, meaning store made with kick-ass toppings and flavors. If I could have had a regular donut I would have had a hard time choosing between the maple bacon, chocolate-covered strawberry, campfire, Samoas, or french toast.

For gluten-free local readers, all the fried chicken is boneless and gluten-free so there isn’t any confusion about what goes into the fryer. The chicken is prepared Korean style meaning they fry it twice. It’s crunchy af and not greasy.

They also have chicken fried dough with this amazing dipping sauce which is off the fucking hook. Their potato crisps and hashbrowns are also gluten-free. It’s worth the trip over to Clifton Park, just be prepared it’s a little pricey but worth every penny! They are in the midst of opening a second location in Troy, NY, how psyched are we?

Marty had a gluten-free breakfast sandwich, and he said it was the best one he has had for years since we have been gluten-free. I chose a creamsicle donut; more orange! It tasted exactly like a creamsicle and as good as any regular donut. It was pure decadence. Yum! Whenever I went to an ice cream truck as a kid, I always chose creamsicle popsicles.

The last tale of the orange happened just a little later on. We stopped at Crossgates mall looking for some sandals for me. We were both thirsty so Marty suggested getting an Orange Julius. Orange Julius is one of our favorite drinks dating way back to the 80s at a mall in NJ.

If you aren’t familiar with Orange Julius it’s a juice and smoothie shop. I didn’t remember them having so many different smoothies, but then again I never look at the menu because I know exactly what I am ordering.

With my Jersey accent, I say “are-ange” not “or-ange” which I argue about with Sam often when he corrects me. Shut up kid, I say it correctly because of this joke I learned when I was around 6 years old. This is how it goes:

Knock knock. Who’s there? Apple. Apple who?
Knock knock. Who’s there? Apple. Apple who?
Knock knock. Who’s there? Orange. Orange who?
“Are-ange” you glad I didn’t say apple? 😜

Happy Friday! Enjoy your holiday weekend! We are off to the farmer’s market tomorrow. We are making different kinds of grilled pizzas with drinks and a campfire with our neighbors on Sunday night. Hopefully, we can take off on Monday. We have the shortest but cutest Memorial Day parade here in Arlington that we look forward to every year.

I just pulled some Cheddar, Chive, and Maple Bacon Scones out of the oven for breakfast tomorrow morning. I may have to try one of the little ones just to make sure they are tasty. BTW…they are! Here is the recipe link I used. As a side note, I add maple syrup to the heavy cream that is painted on the scones before they go into the oven.

*** This is a gluten-free recipe.

It’s only Tuesday…

Sunflower seeds doing their thing!

These last two production days have been long and its only Tuesday. We are taking a short break in between production and deliveries so I am sneaking in a quick post while I have the chance.

On Sunday I took the day off. Boy am glad I did. The dinner I prepped ahead came out super tasty and cooked in minutes.

I used my flat sword types of skewers for the grilled marinated pork. I made a traditional Spanish marinade which was a flavor bomb!

Since the pork were on large flat metal skewers, the meat cooked quickly. Faster than I imagined, its a good thing I had my trusty temperature probe with me.

The chunks of pork cooked on the grill took about 8 minutes. Thank goodness I decided to brine the pork first or it would have dried out.

Yum!

I will definitely be making these pork kebabs again. Last night for dinner I made pork sub sandwiches topped with quick pickled onions and cole slaw. It was fast, easy and delicious. I love leftovers!

Gotta go! Deliveries are waiting and I didn’t have time to edit; my apologies.

Geronimo!

Yesterday, I stood at the end of the deck in the beautiful sunshine. It was in the 80s with no humidity. I yelled, “Geronimo!” Then I jumped into our new pool. I am not a gloater, but our pool is open, and we have been swimming since May 10th. If I were a gloater, I would say, “Waz up bitches! Check it out; I’m swimming already!”

Swimming on May 10th may sound crazy, especially since we live in the Northeast, but the water temperature was 84 degrees. Marty and I waited our whole adult life to have a pool and decided we would invest in a heat pump to swim comfortably for six months out of the year.

If we didn’t have a heated pool, we would only be swimming in July and August. We both grew up with above-the-ground pools and used them a lot. We didn’t give two shits when we were kids if the water was warm or cold. 

I remember my parents forcing me to come out of the pool when my lips were blue. My dad tried to keep me out of the pool if the water was colder than 70 degrees. The ridiculous thing to me as a kid and still kind of now is the waiting 30 minutes after you eat to swim again. Why? 

How many people got stomach cramps from a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch or a piece of chicken or hot dog for dinner. It wasn’t like we ever ate big belly sinker meals in the dog days of summer. 

Yesterday, after production, we quickly put on our bathing suits so we could get into the pool to install our “wedding cake” stairs. I knew these pool stairs existed but didn’t know they were called wedding cake steps. Guess what? They look like a wedding cake! 

A small set of wedding cake stairs.

We have learned from watching other people’s mistakes that since we are in our mid to late 50s, everything we buy we do with 15 years later in mind. Older people who buy a 3rd-floor walk-up apartment or build a brand new home and don’t put their master bedroom on the ground floor aren’t thinking ahead.

We both knew that going up and down a ladder wouldn’t work for us. It was shaky and dangerous using the ladder only a few times, so we knew it would be impossible down the road.

Marty found a set of used steps in Facebook Marketplace, where we find almost everything we buy. He picked up the steps for $150, which cost as high as $800 new. Marty is a master at finding the things we need at the right time and price. 

The wedding cake steps make entering and exiting the pool safe and easy. As a bonus, the steps are a perfect place for us to sit and enjoy a cocktail in the pool.

Me and Sam relaxing today. This was absolute heaven!

We had to build a small deck for the steps to attach to; for the record dollar for dollar, that was the most expensive part of the whole pool project due to the unbelievably high cost of building materials. 

Now we won’t have to go to a hotel that has a pool because we want to sit our asses on lounge chairs and take a dip. We can go somewhere to sightsee or to a particular destination when we go away. 

Marty texted me this photo last night when I was at dance class. It’s the only one I have of him in the pool and it was great to see he was relaxing. The solar cover goes on at night to keep the heat in.

The best part of the whole heat pump thing is that instead of waiting to swim, we can do it already. We will be able to swim through October as well if we wish. 

Today, I remembered everything I did in the pool when I was a kid, like handstands and crab walks. I jumped in a bunch of times. I transplanted some herbs this afternoon, and it was hot on our back deck. After I got done planting, the most incredible thing was I jumped back into the pool to cool off.

“Cannonball!” 😂 

Cooking with Mema

Mema at our wedding. 💙

I love writing about my grandmothers. This afternoon, it felt like Mema was standing beside me, watching me make picnic sides for the bbq chicken I am grilling tonight.

When I was young, I knelt on a red kitchen stool with a back on it and two steps. I would watch Mema make her famous potato salad. I watched her make it many times; anyone having a picnic asked her to bring her potato salad.

I mainly observed, but she let me help decorate the top of the potato salad with slices of hard-boiled eggs and sliced pepper rings. I loved sprinkling to top with paprika too!

She would make 5 lbs of potato salad and serve it in a tin foil roasting pan so she wouldn’t worry about getting her pan back. 

When the potato salad got to where it was going, the Saran Wrap on top was smushed into the salad.

Everyone loved her potato salad. I knew how she made it, so I made the potato salad myself when I got older. My mother couldn’t get over my potato salad tasted just like Mema’s. 

Mema cut her potatoes into small cubes, and her celery and onion were diced very small. You never got a big bite of any one ingredient. She made the mayo dressing in a separate bowl and made sure it tasted right before folding it into the salad. It was all cohesively done, with every bite tasting the same. I think that’s why it was so good. This is how I teach people how to make potato, macaroni, tuna, and egg salads.

It was easy to duplicate since she loosely followed the Hellman’s Mayo recipe on the side of the jar. She had to adjust it since she was making larger quantities. She would taste it and add a little more if this or that. The secret ingredient to her potato salad was all the love she put into it.

Luckily, I had the taste in my food memory, and my palate could duplicate hers. I still look at the Hellman’s recipe to remind myself what’s what. Then I add a little bit more this and that, just like Mema did. Lots of love goes into my potato salad too.

I also watched her make deviled eggs, which are still my favorite. I duplicate hers whenever I make them. I made them for the kids at school when I was the food service director and cook. They would gobble them up within seconds and loved them. 

My baked beans were my creation when I was around 12 years old. Whenever my parents had a picnic or went to one they requested I make my beans. 

I knew even at 12 how I wanted them to taste and would adjust the ingredients until they were just right. Then I would add strips of bacon to the top and pop it into the oven. I knew the beans were done when it bubbled and the bacon was cooked.

Yum! My baked beans are studded with bits of bacon!

After four decades of making baked beans, I figured something out. Instead of leaving the bacon in strips, today, I diced it and arranged it on top of the beans. 

After all these years, I solved the problem with the strips of bacon on top. There were a few slices of bacon, and someone always glommed them all before anyone else got any. Another issue with the whole strips was the bacon was always soggy underneath, even if the tops looked done. The bacon glom didn’t mind, though.

Now, each bite of the baked beans had small amounts of crispy bacon. This is so brilliant. I can’t believe how long it took me!

This is Mema with Noah and me at a family party. She was always smiling when kids were around. I can still smell the powder she wore. Geez, I miss her!

These picnic sides make me feel like I am 10 years old again and taste the same! The only thing I am sad about is that Mema isn’t here to have some with me.

Make the best of it…

Getting ready for the concert tonite.

Yesterday, I read a quote from a friend Robert who I know from my hometown and high school, John F Kennedy, in Iselin, NJ.

His quote struck a chord so deep it hit my core. It said, “Once conscious of life’s end we make the best of it!” RWB

Holy shit! It was like that quote woke me up and made me realize what’s been going on since my mother Eileen died back in October. I haven’t written anything about my mother’s death and rarely speak if it. 

I say died because when I walked into the comfort care room with the nurse at the care facility 30 seconds after she died I said, “Oh no, she’s dead.” 

My mother didn’t pass away peacefully in her sleep like I imagined she would. The look of terror and fear in her wide open dead eyes was shocking to me. The expression on the rest of her face, that was turned facing the door I walked through has haunted me since that night. 

The image I saw looked just like or worse than any Halloween corpse mask I had ever seen. When I was in her room with the staff gathering together some of her items to take home I would forget and turn around or look up and see it over and over. 

Every day I have to get rid of that last image of my mother. I am sad that it is the last thing I saw but then again she always left me upset whenever I visited while she was alive; this was just the icing on the cake. I kept thinking she got me good this time. The last time.

After reading Robert’s quote many things about that image make sense now. That image showed me what the end of someone’s life really looks like. Maybe that’s why it terrified me so much. 

The only dead people I have ever seen have been in an open casket in a funeral parlor. The last time I saw my dad in his casket was extremely difficult and upsetting but at least he looked like he was peacefully sleeping. 

Marty and Sam have seen their share of dead people over the years on the rescue squad. Marty was an assistant medical examiner for a couple of years and Sam is a nurse. When I say their share, I mean a lot.

When I told them what my mother looked like they told me that’s how dead people look. Ok, not helping fellas. I felt sheltered and stupid. I always knew I wasn’t cut out for the medical field, now I was 100% certain.

After seeing what the end of one’s life looks like I did become conscious of it without me knowing. I told myself during the pandemic I was going to make the best of the life I have right now. We don’t know when that day will be so we better make the most of it.

Since then, I’ve gone to NYC twice in one month to see my favorite play Hamilton with Marty and again with my sister Jennifer. All I could think of while I was in the city was, “Why in fucks name did it take you so long to come back dummy?” I am talking about the decade before the pandemic so that’s not an excuse. 

Tonight, we are going to our first concert since the pandemic. It’s a hard rock concert in Glen’s Falls, NY. We are seeing the bands Seether and Breaking Benjamin whom we have seen a few years back.

When Marty asked me if I wanted to go I didn’t hem and haw about it like I normally would have. I said yes right away. He asked me a few days ago if I wanted to go see another band this summer I’ve been dying to see. I bounced around the house saying, “Yes!”

Robert’s quote came from the death of his own mother this time last year. In that time he decided he was going to lose weight, which he has lost 60 lbs so far and to do an activity for exercise he would enjoy. 

He picked dirt bike riding as his exercise.  My son Noah who dirt bikes told me a while ago that people don’t realize how physical a sport it is. Robert can dirt bike and spend time with his son while they are both getting in a fun workout. Good for them!

Now when that final image of my mother pops into my head, instead of telling it to go away, I’ll thank it for reminding me to do the things I want to do and go to the places I want to travel to. To live my life now and have fun. 

“Once you become conscious of life’s end you make the best of it!”

Thanks so much to my friend Robert Wilson Barnes of Greenville, SC for letting me share his quote and story. 🙂

Front porch – 2022 edition…

The weather people lied again! The decent weather with sunshine didn’t happen until later Sunday afternoon. Saturday was too windy and cold to work outside, washing the house and front porch.

The front of our house and front porch has been in dire need of a good scrubbing with a house cleaner. We get a lot of dust and dirt living on the main road, but it’s all part of the charm of living in an old historic house.

We talked about our front porch when we were stuck at home with covid and decided to change things up this year.

We both agreed on no huge petunias this year. They block the view of the street and make a mess. I loved them but want a cleaner look with less upkeep.

We picked out some new pillows and outdoor area rugs, a small plant stand, and a couple of candles. I still need to buy some new flower pots and eventually flowers. 

Project dirty porch lasted most of the day, but we were happy with the results. Everything is clean, including the sectional furniture that needed a good scrub.

Klausie-boy & Otto

The sun came out while we were finishing up, then we sat on the porch with a drink for the first time this year. The boys, Otto & Klaus were so happy to be sitting on the porch again too. Otto looked like a young pup in this one photo.

It’s still cold and far from summer weather, but I didn’t mind wearing a hoody sipping a glass of Prosecco while watching the world whiz by. 🙁