Look, Ma! No Microwave!

Does anyone have a cow for sale? Apparently, it has gotten to the point that it would be more economical than buying from the grocery store. Neva even questioned if we should start buying milk two gallons at a time. Perhaps two cows for sale?

Just this afternoon, Joseph came up to me and asked if he could have a glass of vanilla wafers and milk. He is definitely his mother's child. Sometimes, I wonder if they both wouldn't mind trying to survive on vanilla wafers and milk. Now, I'm not talking about a bowl of wafers and a glass of milk. I'm talking the largest honking glass you can find, stuffed with vanilla wafers and milk. In an effort to save the bovine population from stress caused by over milking, I told Joseph, "No." That went over just as well as "I need you to change the cat litter today."

I started feeling a little guilty. After all, he is a growing boy. Just ask Norfolk shipyard. That's where we're going to be buying his shoes soon. There had to be something I could let him have for snack that would be satisfying, without causing some poor cow to be so sore she wished she had been born a bull.

Popcorn!

You know, those hard little seeds that come right off the stalk, already sealed in paper bags, ready to stick in the microwave. We all have fond memories of standing around the microwave, eagerly anticipating that first POP!  What has this world come to? How could any memory of standing around a microwave be considered fond. Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against microwaves. I find them to be indispensable. However useful they are though, I can't say one has ever evoked memories of the fond variety. My memories actually involve a black popcorn kettle and a hot stove.

It just so happened that Grandma Judi, from Pueblo, CO, sent us a whole bag of home grown popcorn. There's another conundrum. I've been to Pueblo. It's kinda barren. Not exactly where you would expect to find anything labeled as home grown. Nevertheless, that is exactly what I received; home grown popcorn. Guess what!?! This popcorn was not sealed in a paper bag, and something tells me that a microwave would have only crisped those little seeds up. It also just so happened that when Grandma (Linda, not Judi) let us move into the big house, it came completely stocked with the black popcorn kettle I really do have fond memories of. It was a special kettle made in celebration of the bicentennial celebration of the USA. In addition, the house also came stocked with a bag of Trails End brand popcorn (Yep! The same popcorn sold by the Boy Scouts. Joseph will be hitting all you readers up in the fall.). Cool, surely it will have instructions for cooking popcorn on the stove top. Place 1/4 cup oil in the pan. Good so far. Pour the popcorn in the pan so it makes a single layer across the entire bottom. Ok. So, how much popcorn is that? Huh. Anyway, I put half a stick of butter in the pan. I don't want oiled popcorn, I want buttered. I get it all good and melted. I still haven't figured out how much popcorn to use. I get out my cup measure, fill it with popcorn kernels, and start to pour...and pour...and pour. What do you know? It takes a whole cup to cover the bottom of this kettle with popcorn kernels.

The lid goes on, the stove is at medium-high, and I stir...and I stir...and I stir...and I stir...

Now that fond memory is coming back. How long do I have to stir this ^%# thing! Wait! I hear something. It is the sound of...

Sizzling! Oh great! I'm frying my popcorn. Not knowing what I've gotten myself into, I sure am glad I did not inform anyone about what I was doing.

POP!

Oh my gosh! Was that actually a pop I heard?

POP!

There it goes again!

POP! POP!

I'm getting so excited, I could almost...suffice it to say, I'm excited. Before I could blink an eye, the popping started in earnest. Hundreds of little explosions were occurring on top of my stove. Suddenly, I could no longer turn the stirring paddle. The lid began to rise. The popping continued. White fluffy kernels of popcorn appeared in the top of the kettle. Then they flowed out...as they continued popping. Oh, ^%$! Popcorn is going everywhere! It is now under the burner, creating little bonfires. It is all over the stove, and still popping! I pull the kettle off of the stove. Finally! I hear signs of the popping slowing down. I pour what did not go all over the kitchen into two large bowls. One bowl goes to Joseph. The other goes to me...to hold while Grandma enjoys it. After Grandma leaves (She was admiring Sissy's prom dress), Sissy decides she wants some popcorn.

Note to self, one cup of kernels is WAAAAY too much. This time, we go with half a cup. Perfection! Two more bowls of popcorn. One goes to Sissy, and one goes to Joseph. The boy has no idea how regular he is going to be later in the evening.

"Dear," a voice says, ever so sweetly, from the living room. "May I have some popcorn?" Gotta keep the wife happy. The popcorn kettle gives birth to a third batch of popcorn. Talk about being shocked! That poor kettle sat idle on a shelf for who knows how many years, then gets use three times in one day.

So. Another fond memory was created today. And once again, it did NOT involve a microwave.

Fresh popcorn! No microwave required.