Therapy: Cooking

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[Photo credit: The Pioneer Woman — because I haven’t taken one single photo since we’ve been home.]

I’ve been doing all sorts of therapy since being back State-side.

Gardening Therapy, Reading Therapy, Learning-to-Knit Therapy, Walking Therapy, Cooking Therapy. And my favorite: Attacking the Overgrown Bramble Hedge with Shears and a Handsaw Therapy. They regretted their encounter. And, as you can see, these are all solitary therapies. It’s my way of working through things without having to talk about it.

COOKING THERAPY.

I’ve slowly regained my desire to cook. The lack of varied ingredients available to us in Patagonia sucked the life out of my kitchen. It was meat, pasta, white bread, and meat. As delicious as it was, it depressed me. I need green. Variety. Ethnicity, for the love of God!

So, I’ve been doing some Cooking Therapy. I hate to be a mean mommy, but no one’s allowed in my kitchen when my sessions are underway. Unless, of course, I’m feeling nice, and not PMS-ing. Some times of the month are better than others, you know. Aging sucks, what can I say?

I’ve been teaching myself how to knit. It’s really not that hard, try it.

Trying to live my life in 23 1/2 hours has been good, too. But more on those therapies later.

Here are some Cooking Therapy Recipes the knee-biters actually liked:

Chicken Florentine (above photo)
Sausage Swirls
Crockpot Coq au Vin*
Spinach and Bacon Quiche
Layered Chicken and Black Bean Enchilada Casserole
Four Season Burgundy Beef*
Gorilla Bread (beats regular monkey bread’s butt! Everybody asks for this recipe!)
Peanut Butter Brownie Cupcakes

*If alcohol is not your thing, don’t worry – it all cooks off and adds a complexity and depth nothing else can.

home

We’ve been back for four months now.

We made it safe and sound, although barely.

We drove two days from Patagonia to Buenos Aires to catch our flight in record breaking rain and flooding. The kids were talking about it today, how “cool” it was, although one admits being a little scared.

59 people died when it was all over. I’m still in awe we actually were able to make our flight and didn’t get caught in any deep water.

The kids still remember driving through the torrential rains outside of Buenos Aires and the whole landscape on either side of the raised road being totally covered with water, no land in sight. Thousands of frogs were croaking and hopping across the highway. I thought we were going to die. I knew it was bad when Tony, who grew up in BA said, “I’ve never seen anything like this. Never.”

Since getting home we’ve been busy: recovering, getting settled in, doing some gardening therapy.

Much needed. It’s been good.