Who Says You Can't Make Time Stand Still?

Dare I say it? I think my nights are getting longer.

The absence of television seems to have slowed down the clock here at the Jitterbug household on weekday evenings. I noticed this for the first time several days ago. "It must be about 10:00," I thought, looking up at the clock. Nope, just 8:30. "It must be a fluke. Just a coincidence," I told myself. Nope, I felt that extra jag of time the next night - and again the next. It's like the morning that Daylight Savings Time ends, when you're smiling like the Cheshire Cat just to luxuriate in bed for an extra hour. It's an absolutely unexpected phenomenon, but I'm loving it!

My evenings are beginning to feel positively leisurely... and that's something this working woman never thought she'd hear herself say about a weekday evening. It used to be that I'd get home from work, heat something up for supper - snap my fingers - and it'd be bedtime. These days, I find myself actually reading, thinking about taking hot baths, and singing the greatest hits of 1944 as I give the kitchen a little extra magic.

It's like I found a way to stop time! We've been talking about it for years, but I've actually found a way to add hours to the day!!! (Now the trick is going to be not to fritter away that extra time with equally fruitless pursuits.)

Some of the downsides to being without television:

Where to eat dinner? I don't let myself eat my vintage dinner on Sunday evenings in front of the TV, but that never stopped me any other night of the week. Now I find myself all awkward when I'm ready to eat. Like somebody all dressed up with no place to go. (You'd think the clean kitchen table at my elbow would be a hint.)

I find myself in odd moments fantasizing about some of the great television I've watched over the years. Masterpieces like Homefront, life-altering documentaries like The Farmer's Wife, even the cheesy, comforting sitcoms that wrap problems up so neatly in a 30-minute bow. When I tune back in, I don't want to spend the time that's standing still for me now on anything that I don't wholeheartedly enjoy.

Catchup

I can't believe it's been three days since my latest vintage dinner and I haven't posted the results! Yesterday was kind of a tough day. I was running late in the morning and ended up having to dish my oatmeal and pineapple into a mug and eat it when I got to work. (Not the most relaxing breakfast I've ever had!) I'd forgotten about some lunch plans and needed to get my five walks for the week in - so I went to the park after work. Which made me late getting home and feeling very unmotivated to do anything else. Yep, the routine took a hit yesterday, but I was back in the game when my alarm clock went off this morning. With a new resolution: No internet allowed in the a.m. on a weekday. I love getting online to find out what's going on in the world, but it's definitely a liability when it comes to time.

Here's the 1945 dinner menu I whipped up last Sunday evening:

Browned Potatoes

Asparagus Salad

Enriched Bread

Fresh Fruit Cup, Three

The Browned Potatoes are also called American Fried Potatoes in the cookbook. Potatoes parboiled, then cut in slices and fried on the stovetop in a "very little fat." I boiled mine for too long to start, so they were a little softer than I'd have liked - but still good. The Asparagus for the Salad was boiled, then chilled 'til cold. (Canned asparagus was suggested as an alternative.) The recipe instructed me to cut rings from a green pepper, place four stalks of asparagus through each ring, and serve on a bed of lettuce. The basic French Dressing recipe was dressed up this week with a squirt of Catchup, but it didn't make much of a difference in the taste. You know, I think if there's one thing I step away from when it comes to these menus, it'll be the dressing. I cut the recipe in eighths and still end up having to throw much of it away. I may go ahead and buy a bottled viniagrette that I can get some real use from.

Fresh Fruit Cup, Three was a real puzzle... I finally realized that the cookbook contains three recipes for Fresh Fruit Cup. The author must have been calling for the third version this evening. It was a tropical fruit salad - diced orange, diced pineapple, and sliced banana served in layers in a tall glass with coconut. The one step I'd do without next time? Pouring fruit juice over the whole affair before serving. I used orange juice thinking it'd go nicely with the fruit, but it just made the whole thing soggy.

My vintage dinners on Sunday evening have become a lovely kind of ritual. I still make lots of mistakes, but I guess that's the only way you can learn how to cook. The one thing I'm really proud of is that I've been making myself eat at least one serving of leftovers. (Those of you who have been following along know that I have some issues with leftovers!) I've found that if I nudge myself hard - and eat 'em before they're three days old - I can shelve those phobias about food spoilage.

Unlike my housework last night, my vintage beauty missions were not sacrificed to my mood. And the walks might be paying off. I could be imagining things, but I think I actually felt a little spring in my step today. Fancy that! It's as if my muscles are slowly waking up - fiber by fiber - and remembering what they're there for. I had this strange sensation just in walking around the office at work today. This feeling that I could go a little faster and a little farther. It's been just two weeks since I started exercising. That's only ten walks. If it feels like this at two weeks, can you imagine what it'll feel like at four weeks - and eight weeks?

Fine Tuning

Has it been a week already? It seems like just yesterday I was recovering from all those sore kitchen-cleaning muscles, and now I've got sore muscles and pruny fingertips all over again... I had planned on starting a new weekly mission today, but because this kitchen thing is still quite shaky - I'm giving it a second whirl tonight - I think I'll wait on the new mission for another week. The kitchen is about 2/3 of the way done and that's taken me 1 3/4 hours. Last week, the same amount of work took me about 2 hours. So I'm gaining! I've got more work to do, but it's getting late and I still have some evening chores, so I'll finish the kitchen tomorrow morning.

I'm not quite convinced that the refrigerator really needs a thorough cleaning every week, but I'm trying to stay open to the idea and see if it has any surprises for me. It really is useful to take this opportunity once a week to empty the fridge of leftovers that are past their prime, produce that needs to go, and other items that may have expired. This Friday, I wiped down the exterior as well as the interior and was pretty skeeved to find how dirty the side of the fridge had become. It's one of those surfaces I walk by several dozen times a day and had never really noticed how much it needed cleaning! The refrigerator is shining now, along with the range.

Speaking of the range, did you know some of these appliances come with a little metal thingie under the stovetop which can hold it up as you clean underneath? Just like popping up the hood of a car! I had no idea it was there - but it comes in very handy. So did the steel wool I picked up last weekend to clean the drip pans this time. They're not spotless yet, but much shinier than last time 'round.

You know, it occurs to me that housewives who cleaned the outsides of their refrigerators on a weekly basis would probably find it easier not to keep any magnets or other odds and ends stuck all over it. I've always thought refrigerators with a little decor, shall we say, made a kitchen feel more cozy, but it sure takes a heck of a lot of time to remove all that decor in order to clean what's behind it! Let's just say some of that decor didn't make the cut this week.

Potatoes, Parsley, and Pears

What a night!

Potatoes Persillade (started out as Parsley Buttered Potatoes)

Canned Green Beans

Pear and Grape Salad

Corn-meal Muffins

Dinner made it to the table only about five minutes late this evening, but only because I realized after the last time that I grossly underestimate the time it takes to prep and cook things. I tried to wash things up as I went along - which works out great until the last ten minutes or so - and even had a chance to set the table this time. When I sat down earlier this afternoon to plan my preparations, I felt a bit like a military tactician plotting out the action minute-by-minute.

D-60: Wash and peel potatoes.

D-50: Start heating pot of potatoes in cold water.

D-25: Prepare corn-meal muffin batter.

D-20: Muffins in oven.

D-15: Begin preparing salad.

D-10: Start heating green beans.

D-5: Add potatoes to saucepan with melted margarine. Roll to coat with lemon juice and parsley.

Surprisingly enough, I pulled it off, and it all came together at just about the right time. Things still get pretty hairy right there at the end, though. I guess someday I'll be a wise, old housewife and a home-cooked dinner will be a piece of cake!

The Parsley Buttered Potatoes should be made with smallish potatoes. Well, small enough potatoes so that you can boil them in 40 minutes without having to cut them in pieces. The whole potatoes are easier to roll about in a saucepan to coat with garnishes. There was actually a non-budget conscious version of this recipe inside my cookbook called Potatoes Persillade. The only difference: fresh lemon juice. I happened to have a lemon in the house, so added a twist or two.

How can you go wrong with Canned Green Beans? I don't have a Corn Sticks pan, so I decided to make half a batch of Corn-meal Muffins instead. I tried to avert Next Day "Too Dry to Eat" Syndrome by freezing the leftovers right away, but check out these tips I found in a November 1945 issue of Better Homes and Gardens for just that problem. (I guess it's always been an issue for housewives!)

Second-Day Treats

Corn bread leftovers make elegant stuffing seasoned with celery and onion... Or take your choice of sage or thyme.

To serve leftover corn sticks, slice sticks in half, toast under the broiler.

Split corn bread squares, cut diagonally to make triangles, toast, and use under creamed foods.

I've saved the best for last: Pear and Grape Salad. My mouth dropped when I read the recipe for this dish the other night and I've been trying to imagine how I'd pull it off ever since:

*****

PEAR-GRAPE SALAD

Frost the curved surface of one-half pear with cream cheese, stud with one-half grapes and garnish with chicory and watercress, or other attractive greens.

*****

"How on earth would cream cheese stick to a pear?" I wondered. Well, it stuck. And the pear didn't have to be frosted all that prettily as the grape halves cover the surface anyway. I chose red seedless grapes and an Anjou pear. Couldn't find any chicory or watercress at the supermarket, so opted for a spring mix of baby greens and herbs instead. This made an absolutely darling salad! It looked like a giant raspberry resting on a bed of greens. And it was very easy to make - especially once I figured out that my melon baller came in handy for cleaning the core out of the pear. If I were to make this again, I'd definitely choose an overripe pear, so it's easy to cut through when you're trying to eat it, and 1/4 of a pear is actually enough for each person. If you were serving this to a family, you could lay the pear halves on a plate at the center of the table, then cut each one in half again before serving it to each person.

The taste was interesting. Sweet, creamy, and bitter --- but it dressed up the table so nicely. So decorative for a weekday family dinner! It made me think how the daily dinner truly was the '40s housewife's final "presentation" for the day. Her husband and children were gathered around the table for the first time since breakfast. This was her chance to show the family all the good she'd been able to do that day. An opportunity to show off her freshly laundered and ironed linens, her sparkling dishes, and food prepared even when the pantry contents were slim and she'd met shortages at the grocery. To share pickles, preserves, and canned goods prepared last summer.