Rutabaga

I'm still working on the cooking thing. I guess I've got about a dozen things I can make with confidence and serve to company. Not that I ever invite anybody over to eat or anything, but I could if I wanted to. This last weekend was pot roast. It wasn't bad, but it wouldn't have passed muster with Grandma*. Grandma could take absolutely mediocre meat, and turn it into the best pot roast you've ever had. I wish I had paid more attention when she made it, because I don't know how she did it and it's too late to ask her now. In a last minute moment of doubt, I called J-Hole to ask for tips on how best to do a pot roast. J-Hole is not a master chef or anything, but he's southern. And it's a sad fact that Yankees, bless their well-meaning hearts, are hopeless when it comes to making good food. Unfortunately, J-Hole was not at home when I called. So I had to improvise a couple of the ingredients that I wasn't sure of. Turns out that those huge turnips they sell here that are about the size of my (also huge) head are pretty easy to cook. And I've still got half a turnip in the refrigerator. All I have to do now is figure out a way to work the leftover turnip into this recipe for Bacon-wrapped, cheese-filled, battered and fried hot dogs. Mmmm. Hot dogs.




*Known in my family as 'Meemah'. I'm the oldest grandchild, so I guess that name is probably all my fault.