Gran is a disaster in the kitchen.
I have been REALLY trying to keep her out of the kitchen. She used to be a fantastic cook, but now her tastebuds are gone, she does gross things like using her fingers when they are obviously not clean, and has less than zero memory so she forgets what she's doing and either leaves things out, overcooks, burns, etc. It's a regular clusterfuck when she starts, so I try to keep her far far away from the kitchen..
Cuz bad things happen when I let her in.
Last night I was making a beautiful chicken stock. Picture perfect. Magazine ready. I got the recipe from Real Simple....chicken carcass, fresh herbs, peppercorns, onion, garlic, carrots slowly simmered over a low flame for several hours, to a beautiful golden, ready to be the base for my soups all winter (it freezes beautifully). I was cooling it before I strained it as not to burn my fingers. Gran had gone poking in the kitchen a time or two (or three) while I was cooking it, but I am quicker than she is and managed to foil her attempts to put her old lady nose where it doesn't belong....in MY pot.
Then I had to pee. Heaven forbid I had to use the bathroom.
I come out and gran is hovering over my pot....WITH THE SALT IN HER HAND.
GRAN WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? THAT'S MY STOCK. DO NOT PUT SALT IN MY STOCK.
That soup needs salt!
THAT IS NOT SOUP. IT'S STOCK. DO NOT SALT MY STOCK.
Kenna don't tell me what to do. Don't tell me how to cook. I know how to cook. That soup needs salt.
IT IS NOT SOUP!!! AND IT'S MY POT. GET THE HELL OUT OF MY POT...
I ripped the salt and the spoon out of her hand, not before she managed to get at least a tablespoon of salt in my stock and nearly ruined it....and she slammed the lid down on the pot.
I had to leave, I was boiling.
That was yesterday.
Today I come home from work and running errands near 5ish. Gran is in the kitchen. Red flags go off in my head when gran is in the kitchen. I notice she's hovering around the microwave pushing buttons.
No biggie right?
Um. WRONG.
Gran has put her "Meals on Wheels" dinner in the microwave. IN A TINFOIL PAN. It says RIGHT on the top of the meal "DO NOT MICROWAVE" and she puts it in the microwave.
For 12 minutes. (yes, twelve).
I see the shiny tin foil and LEAP across the kitchen to open the microwave. Gran has already started the slow crawl out of the kitchen.
KENNA WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU DOING???
Gran THAT'S METAL. YOU CAN NOT PUT METAL IN THE MICROWAVE.
WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT KENNA. I PUT THOSE IN THE MICROWAVE ALL THE TIME.
I stare at her gape mouthed and dumbfounded. She is going to burn the house down. She does NOT microwave them all the time, because I am the one who gets her dinner 90% of the time.
So I plate her dinner and put it back in the microwave. Then I bring her her dinner in her chair where it's safe. She's not in the kitchen.
And I start to clean the kitchen. And I noticed that the coffee filter had what appeared to be very finely ground coffee in it.
Very fine.
and I look closer and it's not coffee at all. I pick it up and sniff. Hummm....well it's not all bran.
It's cinnamon.
Yes. Gran brewed Cinnamon.
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