I don’t have a recipe for you today. I’ve actually been cooking a good bit but between fishing cutlery out of cardboard boxes, trying to convince my dog the fireplace is not going to eat him, and a grilling with a threateningly-leaky gas line, I keep forgetting to take pictures.
Also, I’ve been using my crockpot an absurd amount since we moved into this house.
My new kitchen is massive and amazing and there’s leather granite you guys. I’m afraid to touch it. The guy who renovated this house did everything top-notch, which is great! Except for the induction stove. Sure it’s “high-end” and “a cook’s cooktop” but you guys, induction stovetops are so high-tech they only heat up when they recognize your cookware. Which has to be magnetic. Which pretty much only means cast iron. Nope. Not happening. I have an obscene amount of cookware I’ve grown used to, broken in like a blistery pair of shoes, and I’m not giving it up for some stove.
So my new gas range is being delivered in two weeks.
This means lots and lots of oven-baked stuff, grilling (which we’re relatively new at) and the beloved crockpot. Nothing says “SUMMER” like a boiling pot of meat with heavy sauce.
Anyway, having a real human-sized kitchen is awesome. There’s a dining table! AND a breakfast-room table! I may put tables in every single room just because I can. Though I do miss eating dinner sitting cross-legged on the couch with the plate burning my thighs. Joking. I do not miss that.
Here are a few things that have been going on around here:
My cherry tomato plant is taking Human Growth Hormone, apparently:
George is terrified of hardwood floors:
Too many baked goods to count. And lots of fruit. Fruity baked goods:
I’m refinishing a table like I’m Martha Stewart, for some reason:
Crockpot pulled pork is something you need to eat. Recipe in a couple weeks:
And, as promised, a bulldog in a kiddie pool: