This past Sunday evening when it sunk in for us that we were in fact really moving (and within a couple weeks at that) our minds both started turning. Ryan began making mental lists of all the tasks to be completed, like shipping our stuff and the van…finding a place to live…ya know..moving stuff. Me? My first task checked off the growing list in my head was to make 3 gallons of beef stock with the reserved bones sitting in my freezer. Will I use 3 gallons of beef stock in 1 week? No. But I figured stock pawned off on friends in quart sized freezer bags has a higher chance of being used than the bones I’d been saving up for that round of stock. Yeah…Ryan shook his head in wonderment of my weirdness too.
Next was using up the remaining dry fruit in the house to make up a large batch of “snowy fruit balls” for the kids to snack on. Then assess what else is in the freezer. Liver. There’s a pound of chicken livers that I *intend* to make into liver pate tomorrow. Anyone in Orlando like liver pate? I also have a pound of beef liver that will have to go to the trash unless there are any takers.
I did sadly throw out the beef tounge today. It sat in the freezer for over a year…never did work up the courage to try to cook that. Maybe some day….
Then there’s the sourdough. Sigh. Tonight I used some to make a batch of banana muffins that will be breakfast over the weekend. Tomorrow morning I’ll make some sourdough pancakes & then in the afternoon will prepare some sourdough pizza crust….then I’ll have to dump any remaining starter & wash the jar. Kill off my sourdough starter. it was my “first born”. It started out gluten free (as of this week is no longer, heh). It taught me so much…..ok…actually books & people on the internet taught me, but it was all trial & error with this generation of starter….that i might add was garnered “wild” on my back porch. It was a victorious milestone in crazy traditional food cooking. Yes, I’ll be able to start up a new batch of “bellingham” sour dough (which interestingly enough…might taste different as there are different strains of yeast in different locations, I’m anxious to see). But I’ll always fondly remember the original starter.