neither my pot or kettle are black anymore

I could blog about the current provincial election but I am afraid if I start giving voice to the disgust and outrage I feel towards all the political parties involved in this election travesty; I will never be able to stop raging. And contrary to some, I really don’t walk around angry all the time, so instead, I will blog about what excites me.

I got new, and I due mean new, cookware. I am one of the few women I know who have actually managed to go through 4 complete sets of pots - in addition to the literally legions of odd pots and pans. Things were so desperate with the overall current state of my pots/pans that my small enamel roasting pan was nominated for top pot in my kitchen, even though, I do have to clean it with the utmost care. One vigorous swipe along the bottom and all three hot spots will be showing daylight. But if the worse happened, I suppose I can what my grandmother always did (and patch them with nuts & bolts).

I will admit a great deal of my pots were not the greatest quality cookware. My Jamaican cast iron pots were great (even if they are a bugger to lug or clean) but mysteriously, I seem to be down to only one pot and two lids….and I haven’t a clue where my favourite cast iron frying pan has disappeared to. Through the years, my pots and pan collection hasn’t always fared well when my mother came on her annual visit. She has burned beyond repair at least one pot or pan per visit - when she wasn’t busy boiling my kettle dry or melting the coffee machine. And if you want to know how one melts a coffee machine here’s the hat tip - move (for no reason known under heaven) the coffee machine from its nice safe spot on the counter to the back burner on a stove when your daughter is slow cooking a roast in the oven.

Anyway, I found this cookware store going out of business. There was an incredible commercial set of German steel pots and pans on sale for $199….marked down from $699.00. I also managed to pick up a decent pasta machine which I could not resist possessing. I know some incredible pasta dough recipes, though sadly, only one of my children will eat pasta. How sick is that? The only way I ever managed to get all three heathens to even eat the littlest bit of spaghetti requires I start the sauce from scratch as in 'tomatoes just off the vine' scratch. And then they will eat it but only grudgingly.

I suppose I can hope that one day I will have legions of grandchildren who will love to eat pasta and then the machine will finally get a decent work out. Or I could break down and invite my mother to leave the wilds of Oakville to come spend the weekend eating pasta with me in Toronto….but before I do - what I need to know is if there are guardian angels for pots?