Cook books

I committed myself to a kitchen clear-out one day this week when it was just too hot to work in the garden. As in 107 degrees - felt-like heat. The humidity is a killer. At least the gardenias and pikake like it. That’s the only upside I can see.

Cook books were the first order of business. Emptying shelf upon shelf required a thorough examination of each tome. Unfortunately, reading cook books is as addictive as reading a Mary Balogh romance novel.

While I haven’t even looked at most of these cook books in years, I can remember recipes from most of them that were either successes or flops. (Hello, Mars bar cake. what a waste of chocolate.) Some read like old friends, others, I swear I’ve never seen before. Which takes me to a slim paperback NATIVE AMERICAN RECIPES.

I started to toss it in the giveaway pile. Then I opened it and started reading recipes like “How to cook squirrel.” And “Yellowjacket soup” which requires gathering up a Yellowjacket paper pod, boiling it, then removing the Yellowjackets to fry them up in fat. No thanks, I think.

Next up is squirrel stew, a surefire winner. I start to laugh, then I remember we’re facing apolyptic times. Maybe I’ll be hunting for this recipe before you know it.

I’m hanging onto most of them.