The Loaf and the Pig

The bread and the ham, minus the mayonnaise and tomatoes -- or something like that. There certain kitchen items I keep handy that make my food preparation easier and all the tastier (much like that ham, tomato, and mayonnaise sandwich) while adding some fun and flare to my kitchen:

The Wooden Pig: I do not know exactly the story behind the wooden pig. In a handful of whimsical kitchen stores, I have seen a few cutting boards in the shape of a pig, however none had the marble eyeball. The birth of the wooden pig is credited to My Papaw Roop who would send us home with sacks of tomatoes from his garden and pears from his tree, and, apparently, the occasional wooden pig which we only knew to use as a cutting board. The wooden pig who still resides in my mom’s kitchen after umpteenth years has seen both ends of the meat mallet many times and has survived many a dull knife wound from the steak knives that could not cut Jell-O. I do believe my sister’s wooden pig is more back board than cutting board as it cozies right in with her kitchen’s folk-farm theme, however this may be an inaccurate statement and I welcome any correction to set the record straight.

The pig I rescued was amongst never-used tablecloths and pieces of 37 year-old avocado green dinner wear that will never breathe until the day they are packed, moved across town, unpacked, and again nestled in the bottom of the hutch. And so to not put a harmless wooden creature through the same treatment, I brought one home from on my last visit to Oklahoma and now he is my bread and cheese board, proudly serving my guests. Williams Sonoma, there is no need to tempt me with $60 cheese boards. Papaw Roop has outfitted my Gorgonzola and walnut bread beautifully.

Big Yellow: For years I had KitchenAid Stand Mixer envy -- pretty colors, from pink to sky blue to a green so apple-like, I can smell the tartness. The respectable white Artesian KitchenAid Stand Mixer sitting on my mom’s cabinet was christened by me, and since acquiring my own, I don’t know if it’s been used since. When mom offered to give me a brand new Artesian mixer as a wedding present, after enthusiastically agreeing that she should, the only request that I had was for her to surprise me with the color. And thus Big Yellow entered my life. Admittedly, it was an early wedding present, equipped and ready for me to make my three wedding cakes for the reception. Upon moving to Chicago, Big Yellow settled onto its own little stand (sold as a bar stool, bought for a clever plant stand, now the permanent home for Big Yellow), and has seen several batches of chocolate chip cookies, countless cupcake experiments, and, most recently, is my new “hand” at kneading bread dough. I am one who used to pride herself on kneading bread dough by hand, Big Yellow has happily taken over the hard work and kneads while I clean the kitchen and prepare other ingredients.

The Handy, Dandy T-Shirt: Here is where I show a vulnerable and, um, obsessive side of myself. Now I know newly married people have to adjust to each other and sometimes in pretty important areas: politics, religion, how money is spent, and fabric softener usage. I dare say that Shane and I are on the same chapter, same page, and mostly on the same sentence about all things politics, religion, and money. However, when it comes to fabric softener usage, Shane has his nose in a non-fiction, life-enhancing short on words but long on structure book, while I’m pouring through my favorite F. Scott jazz tale. I do not like fabric softener of any kind. Not only does it make my arms break out into little annoying bumps, but it makes my tea towels reek of Bounce which rubs off onto my freshly baked bread when it's wrapped it in those towels.

A quick aside -- I wrap my bread in towels as the inside in still cooling, when it's too soon to place the loaf in a plastic bag as the sealed plastic will create steam and make the bread soggy. The towel protects the bread from drying out, and the insides cool completely rendering a perfectly chewy, non-soggy loaf when I am ready to slice and serve it. And when a tea towel has been washed and dried with any kind of scent, the towel so kindly brings the scent into the kitchen and shares it with the bread.

But why is the t-shirt unscented and not the tea towel? Shane and I share laundry duty and when he does his share (which is mainly the bathroom towels, kitchen towels, and manly unmentionables) he makes it a strong and fragrant point to throw in a sheet or two or eight of Bounce. Though I am now in the habit of throwing a sheet or two myself when I have laundry duty (polo shirts, khaki pants, dark socks, and womanly unmentionables), I dare say oftentimes when I dry a load of clothes that mainly belong to me I conveniently forget the dryer sheet and thus have spared a few t-shirts from its fabric softener demise. An unscented (clean) t-shirt makes a perfect substitute for a tea towel.

Iron Man: My almost 10 year-old cast iron skillet is fine wine, strong cheese, and nicely aged beef rolled into one sturdy package complete with a handle. From crusty bread to seared steaks and morning bacon, in my kitchen, this is the heart of my cooking. If I had bulging arms just ready to lift extra weights, the temptation to replace all my cookware with cast iron would be irresistible. Plywood cabinets and the thought of having to season every pot and pan easily chases away that fantasy, and instead I lavish all my attention onto my one cast iron pot, and lovingly keep it seasoned with an oil bath and a salt scrub. Never wash your cast iron skillet with soap, water, and/or any kind of abrasive as you will take off the seasoning that you’ve worked so hard to age. If food becomes stuck to the skillet, pour in some oil, plop on some lard or Crisco, or use a scoop of that bacon fat you’ve been saving in the Folgers can behind the stove. Sprinkle coarse salt over the fat and scrub the skillet with a soft cloth that you do not mind dirtying with skillet crud, perhaps an old undershirt that has seen better days, but good luck with the whole Bounce smell if that is too a sensitive issue in your household.

With the arrival of my sister-in-law for an all-too-short visit, I have plans for each one of my necessities. Into the mixing bowl will go ingredients for my rosemary raisin bread. And yes, as the rosemary raisin bread cools, it will don one of my t-shirts. Lacking the rest of its workout attire, the loaf will happily serve as an appetizer, thinly sliced and served amongst various chunks of strong cheese with a glass or two of vino on the side. This will tide my guests' appetites as I sear our pork chop dinner in the trusty Iron Man before scraping the bits I hope will slightly cling to the skillet and flavor my creamy port wine gravy.

I think it will be a good weekend.