KITCHEN

 

Time was running short as I finished the bedroom wall painting, bathroom trim, and bedroom window work. I spent some time in the shop cutting, sanding, and varnishing the beadboard for the bathroom as well as the flat stuff for the kitchen. As in  much of my woodwork I'd add to the house, I used antique southern longleaf yellow pine, often called 'heart' pine. The stuff is between three and six hundred years old, having been harvested in thelate 1800s from old-growth trees over three hundred years old. 'Heart' pine is a bastardization of the word 'hard' pine; the quicker-growing shortleaf yellow pine is much softer. I gathered most of this as cast-offs from my job at DCAM, a millshop specializing in not only fine millwork from new wood, but from reclaimed old-growth wood such as this. I prolly already tole you this, but it can't be repeated enough; I owe a lot to DCAM and Brian Cooper for his allowing me to carry off the cut-offs from my job as Woodmizer operator. Hey Brian!

I'd already done the southeastern corner with this wood in a board-and-batten design, so I needed to finish the rest of the woodwork to match it.

But this is my KITCHEN. I LIVE in this room. The main fireplace is in here, the little teevee that only gets PBS (the only channel I get, and though it's enough, it's the BEST) is in the corner where I used to keep the bar when I had friends, my kitchen table where I write all this crap, and the stove. I carried this stove from a restoration job at The Boyle House on Arch Street in Little Rock Arkansas (Thanks, Cassie! Yoou're the BEST!). A 1980s O'Keefe and Merritt 36 inch gas job I installed in my last downtown home, I've rebuilt it a number of times. Like me, it's old, but works fine and can be updated with new parts.

What it didn't have was curb appeal. I would give it that, and it would be a royal pain in the ass.

The dogs fled their usual corner-of-the-room hangout when I began to set up my miter saw on the very stove upon which I intended to update. Good thing, I would have kicked them out anyway. This thing is a workhorse, and I like to cook. The kitchen has a bake oven built into the fireplace (1735 or thereabouts), and I use it for (of course) storing kindling for the fireplace. There was an ancient gas stove in the house when I bought it, and that thing had a heater built into its side. I tried it when I first came to the house and nearly died in the badly burned exhaust fumes. It went to the curb that afternoon and was gone in an hour. Scrap is scrap.

This pic was taken when the kitchen trim job was almost complete. My goal was to make the back side of the stove, normally hidden by counters and cabinets, a highlight of the room. Cheerio's chair sits in front of that black-painted recessed surface that was never intended to be seen. The battens can be seen leaning against the fireplace.




Installing thre battens. The stove had to be framed out with specially-planed  1x and 2x lumber to give me something upon which I could attach my antique heart pine boards and battens. The boards are wider pieces, the battens the less wide ones. I left a space  at the bottom for all the electrical and gass connections; I wanted them hidden, and they will be when I install the door. I also set the entire stove on a steel platform that has wheels. This is so I could move it around the room.

You see, my kitchen is the center of the house, and though I have had a (very) few individuals over for dinner, it has always been one person at my table against the front windows, and that person is me. I figure that it is possible that some day I might not be so much of a recluse and start actually try to LIKE humans (extremely doubtful), and I might actually have more than one person over for dinner (to feed, not to eat; I can cook those outside). But the only way to do that would be to pull the table from its windowside position, add leaves, and move the stove. So it's on wheels.

I've set it up so I can move it to the corner where the gas heater is, and their connections are the same.

I needed more light and so found a couple of small reticulated desk lamps and drilled holes topped with steel washers in which to set them. The washers make it swivel better and save the wood from gouging. I'll trim the overlong wires later. I installed a power strip at the top; not the best model, but I'll find a better one.

So you see?

Good.

Let's go on to the next slide.

Kimbrell? KIMBRELL!!!

CHANGE THE FRACKING SLIDE!!

Ahh, there, now.

  

On the right is what I did last year, when I was alive and had (some) hope. Then I decided to sort of finish the Kitchen Woodwork. What a maroon!

But you can see that I wrapped the antique new wood around the dishwasher, another castoff from another friend. Prolly already tole you.

Bout frinkin time. Installed this thing three yuears ago, use it twice a month. Finally trimmed it, and its back that faces the music room. That sheet in the background covers the digital guitar synthesizer and other electriomics.

THIS is why I care about my stove, incomplete as it is in these pics. I LOVE to eat good food and I cook a LOT. To prove it, I encountered this weird-looking vegetable at one of my favorite Good Food markets, Herb's Market in Montville, Connecticut. If you can get there, DO IT. Jeff had this vegetable and had no idea exactly what it was, but told me who grew it. I know the guy and he has lined my tummy with some perty formidable stuff, so I bought it.

AND ATE IT!!!!

It wur guuud, as I used to say back in Arkysaw. Sorta like brokkly on steeroids. With some Pete Townshend thrown in. YUM!

THIS is the reason I have a stove. My mother used to make a Pork Roast, and I loved her recipe. But her recipe called for a boneless rolled roast, a sort of tenderloin.

When I grew up I adhered myself to using a bone-in Shoulder Roast, often callec a Boston Butt. Don't ask me why. It's too disgusting already.

But not the recipe. It's gorgeous.

Get a six to ten pound shoulder roast, bone-in preferred. Trim the huge hunk of fat from the bottom; it's highly marbled and doesn't need any more. Place it in a rectangular Pyrex dish and rub it all over with ground or rubbed sage. Dry, not fresh. Use a thin filet knife to spear it about twenty times from the top and insert slices of fresh garlic into the holes. Cover with with REAL sour cream (no carrageenan or locust bean gum, now) and fresh cracked pepper. Put it in a 325 oven uncovered for 25 minutes a pound and drool as you fill your kitchen with the most amazing scents. Then throw it away and go to McDonald's for a classic McRib.

No, No, NO! I don't know who said that, it wasn't me. Let it sit for thirty minutes after you take it from the oven and slice it and eat it. Save all the drippings for au jus or gravy or to add to the frying pan thing I'm going to describe. Makes wonderful sandwiches cold and you can take big slabs from it, put them in a wide frying pan, add onion and broccoli, paprika and spices, put in cream cheese and a little water (don't forget a few spoonfuls of drippings), and eat like you mean it.

This one had no bone; I used baling wire to wrap it up and made it the same as above.

Yum.

I like stir fry too.

It looks like I cook with antifreeze and jigsaws. I don't know why I took this picture. There's a Cape Cod in that glass. That might 'splain it.

Sometimes I create things. There was an inexpensive tenderloin roast (rolled) on sale so I took it home, cut it into a lot of sections for freezing, and saved one piece. As I've said, I don't like rolled roasts; they have no fat, and fat flavors the meat. I unrolled it, stepped back and said, "Hmmmnnn…"

I made a paste from garlic and fresh basil (sort of pesto-like) and things I can't remember, then schmeered it on the meat.

I rolled it up, brushed it with olive oil, and put a dry rub of paprika, sugar, salt, and pepper on the thing. Then I smoked it for a few hours until it reached 170 degrees.

It was okay, but would have been better with more fat.

The dish is from the "I Love Lucy" TeeVee show.

Le Pot au Crock.

Le Interieur of Le Pot au Crock. Filled it with quartered golden potatoes, onions and carrots, added soy sauce, crushed red pepper, kosher salt, dry mustard, paprika, granulated garlic, celery seed, ginger, and sesame oil. Top it all with country-style ribs that have been seared (but are still uncooked) on the grill. Throw on chopped capers and more spices. Cook on low overnight and wake to the most fantastic scents throughout the house.

It's quite edible, you know.

My basil garden's second planting in August. It was one hell of a year for basil.

Volunteer cherry tomato at right. Harvest them green and put them in empty Claussen Pickle juice. Eating them now in winter.

There's no such thing as too much basil. But it took me two days to make a TON of pesto from this batch. Most is a-freezin'.