So today is our big celebrating day. My family is coming over this evening at 5 pm. And here I sit talking to you. Oh well.
This morning I was searching for a recipe for ham cooked in Coke in a crock pot. To us Northerners, that is a novel method of ham preparation. The more I read, the more I learned that ham baked in Coke (called "Coke" even if it's Pepsi or some other "pop" as we Hoosiers call it) is a long-time Southern tradition, like not wearing white after Labor Day and always having a pitcher of iced tea at the ready in case company drops in.
Anyway, I found this recipe site that cracked me up. In the middle of the recipe, there is a link that says, "If you want to turn this recipe into a puzzle, click here."
Huh? If there's one thing I don't need, it's a way to make cooking even more challenging. I thought, "What do they do? Scramble all of the ingredient amounts so that you have to figure out that it doesn't call for 12 lbs of brown sugar but 12 lbs of ham? Do they leave blanks so that you can guess how many ounces of Coke to add?" Turns out it is a word scramble. So I guess the idea is that the cook, not having much to do while preparing a holiday meal for a dozen people or more, might spend some of her spare time in the kitchen working puzzles.
While I'm filling up all that free time in the kitchen today, I might also do a little scrap booking or paint a room or change the oil in the car. Because I'll just be so bored once all 20 dishes are cooking at the same time.
All of a sudden, I'm feeling a power surge, like "I am woman; I can do it all," as in cooking, cleaning, running out for last minute purchases, working puzzles, getting the stuck green onion off of the dog's back, and looking fresh and holiday sparklish when my family arrives. Thus, I'm posting my "I am Woman" picture to convey how capable and powerful I feel at this moment.
Retro Christmas Moment, for new readers:
Here is last year's Christmas ham. We named him "Piggy Piggy Ham-Ham," and he will go down in our family's historical annals under the title, "Precious Aberrant Holiday Moments." Except for the maraschino cherry, he came out of the oven looking exactly like a pig. How's that for appetizing?