I’m turning into Becky Home Ecky on the weekends. It was snowy, so it was another good day to just stay inside. I puttered around the house cooking and making cookie dough – not the roll-out kind. (I’m part of some guild of ladies that makes baked goods for students at Concordia. I told them right off the bat that I can only make chocolate chip cookies – no cakes. That seemed to work out, and I only have to do it about once a year.) Anyway, I was so gung-ho with this cookie thing that I also made a half-batch of a coffee/chocolate shortbread recipe from the internet. I haven’t baked it yet, and I’m saving the details for it’s own post. The recipe involved chopping some chocolate, to my very great joy.
I’ve told you how much I love to chop, right? Onions, celery, apples, nuts, garlic, chocolate – whatever. But there’s a problem. I’m not the most careful person. I don’t ‘clean’ my cutting boards very well after each use as much as give ’em a quick wash and swipe it dry. (Except for the plastic cutting board for meat – that one gets sanitized in the dishwasher. Meat germs give me the jibblies.) Consequently, sometimes my apples smell a bit like onions. I’ve often thought that I should mark one side of the board for onions and savory stuff, leaving the other side stink-free for sweet things. But how? Carve ‘onion’ into it? Hack a chunk out of one edge and just remember? Brand it?
Brand it?
Brand it.
Oh, yeah. Getting dangerous with hot metal! (I used tongs. I’m not completely insane.)
My dad made these cutting boards for me. I love them, and now they’re permanently mine.
It’s a little salt shaker I lost the plug to. No comments about the tragic state of my drip pans. Those don’t get cleaned very often at all.
Burn, baby, burn.
“O” is for onion. and ocelery. and ogarlic.