When it’s too hot to cook, you make a cold plate. Alas, no cheese.
My girl Laura had a gift for describing food in glorious detail. Historians attribute this in part to the poverty she endured and the lack of nutrition while Pa made a go of it on the prairie. I need to reread the books again, it’s been a while, but for this blog entry, I’m remembering the peppermint heart she received from the shopkeeper in the Big Woods and the white flour sugar cake in her Christmas stocking, both of which she described as “too pretty to eat,” but it didn’t take her long to give into the temptation and eagerly enjoy them.
We have it much easier in modern times, and I had the luxury of looking at the stove on a very hot day to say “maybe just some hard boiled eggs,” and decided on a cold plate dinner. Will, eager to help or eager to eat, assisted in preparation by arranging the meat tray while I cut and cleaned vegetables.
When we were ready to eat, we both took a minute to look at a cool feast and enjoy the spread which was, as Laura would say, too pretty to eat. That lasted about a heartbeat, as the juicy orange slices and crisp apples were too tempting to pass up. The fresh vegetables had a satisfying crunch, and we dipped liberally into the hummus and dill dip for added flavor. Mini sandwiches were made with crackers and meat. We had our fill and pleased to know there were plenty of leftovers for Sunday’s lunch.
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