I get to unpack the rest of my kitchen boxes.
Those of you who have moved can relate to the unpacking ritual:
One starts out carefully unpacking, welcoming each item into it's new home.
The cabinets are analyzed; plans made.
The wine glasses will go here, one thinks.
And the serving dishes here, next to the cook top.
There's so much room, one thinks; I won't have to stack everything, and twist and turn to make it fit.
Then one unpacks the second box.
By the time one gets to the 22nd box the rosy outlook has faded.
A broken wine glass barely elicits a raised eyebrow. Stuff is getting shoved into whatever cabinet still has an inch of room.
By the 40th box, one is just stupefied at how one could have manged to accumulate so much useless crap.
I'll let you know what happens with the last box…. I'm not there yet.
This is how it all looked when I started:
The cabinet over the main sink (white cabinets, wood shelves) is shallow, meant for glasses, wine glass, etc. It will have glass doors. It will have open shelving on the end – not built yet.
The rest of the cabinets have white shelves and the doors will be stained to match the ceiling.
The dishwasher fits in the space where the trash bin is. Don't know were that will move to.
The big set of 8 drawers is finished – except for the fronts. Like the doors, the fronts will be done next (after the current hospital stay – mon mari planned for easy, finishing work)
The wood shelved cabinet at the end will be open shelving.
One would think, with all this room, I would have no problem tucking everything away, neatly, with room to spare.
Apparently, one would be wrong.
It all fit into far less room in a much smaller kitchen in our last house.
Apparently, leaving things boxed up in dark places causes them to 'be fruitful and multiply'.
If only that would happen with my jewelry…..
Oh, I have my oven back again. I haven't plugged it in yet. I thought a few days of blissful ignorance was in order.
When I'm alone, as I am now, I have a difficult time calling a halt to my day. There are so many things to do and I always have way to many projects lined up.
Without mon mari here to force me to stop I just keep working. The dogs remind me to feed them at 9pm (Emma has an amazing clock that is always, precisely, 15 minutes fast). But I just 'have to do one more thing'.
Next thing I know it's midnight and I haven't eaten dinner yet.
I'm tired, cranky and hungry.
This is comfort food.
This is (my definition) fast food.
The tuna part came from a Finnish friend.
Really, tuna works very well in an omelet – especially with the chevre.
Tuna and Goat Cheese Omelet
Simple and ready in 5 minutes.
2oz (60gr) goat cheese
5oz (150gr) tuna, packed in water
2 tsp olive oil
Slice goat cheese (1/4" thick, .65cm). Open and drain tuna; break apart with a fork. In a medium bowl beat eggs well with a wire whisk. Heat oil in an 8 inch nonstick skillet or omelet pan over medium-high heat. Add the eggs and swirl around to cover bottom of pan. When the eggs are almost set spread the tuna on 1/2 of omelet, top with goat cheese and with a spatula turn other half on top.
Leave in the pan another 20 – 30 seconds to finish cooking and remove to plate.
Had it not been so late I would have stepped put my door and snipped some chives. Instead I just poured a glass of wine…
Did I mention that I now live in the tomato capital of France? Those tomatoes, called Marmande, after our nearest little city, actually taste every bit as good as they look. It's only May and I am feasting on perfect, garden-ripe, just picked tomatoes… That I actually buy. Amazing!