Ok, I have to preface this with the disclaimer that my culinary ambitions are not nearly a match for those of my late husband (and my, he *is* running awfully late. where could he be!?) Yes, yes, I'm still thriving on denial, but today I took it upon myself to honor his memory by attempting to cook.
I made applesauce.
Simple, yes, but still a major step for a girl who knows how to cook 3 dishes, and 2 are mainly for breakfast.
I had 4 lonely apples about to go bad, and a Pampered Chef slicer-peeler-corer (coolest. gadget. ever.) in the drawer. I read a recipe online, but didn't have what it called for, so, when in the field, improvise, yes?
Here's what I did:
In medium saucepan, place 4 apples peeled, cored, and sliced my the turning of a pampered chef.
Cover with water and bring to a boil.
Add a few shakes of cinnamon, a dash of salt, and 2 squeezes of lemon juice.
Reduce to simmer.
Mind the baby - play with the remote control car he got for his birthday. Change a stinky diaper. Wash hands. Return to kitchen, realize no timer is set. Set timer for 10 minutes.
Return to playing in baby's room. Smell lovely odors from the kitchen and think fondly of applesauce simmering. Try to clean the nursery, get distracted, and miss timer beeping.
Recall husband's theory "I cook with my nose - you can SMELL when it's ready."
Decide it's ready.
Pour off excess liquid, use hand blender to lightly puree.
Enjoy cold several hours after forgetting to take to dinner which it was made for.