In the Robert Parker Spenser novels, busy detective hero Spenser is always looking in his fridge and kitchen cabinets, finding a few apparently-unrelated items, and whizzing up a masterpiece of creative culinary art on the spot for his foxy girlfriend.

At the Greek restaurant we frequent, kitchen goddess Sophie has a LONG menu: page-after-page specialties available ANY time. She does it by having the main ingredients, precooked and unspiced, stowed in the freezer. Dinner at Sophie's restauarant involves hearing the whirring of the microwave as she thaws and then takes these items to the stovetop, adding her unique blends of spices, all-day-simmering sauces, and Greek appetizer items made up early each morning. When she grinningly brings the platter out, the sensible thing to do would be to fall down in worship. But it's too crowded in her tiny space, so the next best thing is to dig in and make appreciative, loud noises she can hear back behind the counter as she assembles the next blessing.


Sophie and Spenser have in common that they can do it all-- a variety of authentic cuisines as well as nouveau, one-of-a-kind, fusion dishes. Between us, Hardi and I have similar leanings, if not the same degree of culinary skill.

So-- in the lower of our double ovens, at the moment, I am roasting about 15 pounds of chicken parts and about 4 pounds of thin-sliced pork. These will be wrapped in various-size packages for the freezer, to become the basis for whatever we're in the mood for on any given day. The pork usually gets slathered in barbecuse sauce and frozen in thin foil packets, later to be slow-cooked in the oven on a cookie sheet, right in the foil, on hockey nights. It won't even need pre-thawing. The chicken will be frozen on the bone and, later, deboned and sauced for all manner of dishes. Later today, Italian-sausage and beef will be food-processed into meatloaf, baked, cooled, sliced, and frozen in small packages. (The Thanksgiving turkey, rather plain in its gravy, is already in there.)

Dinner for one, lunch for two, huge dinner for drop-ins-- it's all going to be there, waiting. Along with some uncooked packages of beef and liver that will thaw fast and go on the grill or stovetop for variety. There are also a dozen muffin-cup-sized packs of refried beans with pulled pork; cornbread in single-serving wax-paper wraps; and two or three big old hambones to crockpot with beans from the pantry.

In two weeks, whatever is on sale in the meat department will be added to the ever-changing rotation. (If you've been here for a pre/post-Getaway Gathering or a weekend Gathering, this is where your arrival-night crockpot came from.)



THANK YOU, Sophie and Spenser, for your great tricks! Just one fragrant day out of every two weeks keeps it all going all winter!


What are your tricks, Mudcatters?


~Susan