My wonderful new grandma, Hilda Sue, gave me an All American Pressure Cooker 921. It’s my second favorite piece of kitchen machinery I have, right behind my Kitchen Aide mixer.
Those jars beside the cooker came our way via Ohio County in Kentucky. They are the real deal and have certainly had much more experience hands use them. Let’s hope some of that magic translates for me.
I’ve been going to the local farmers’ market with my wife about twice a week and getting produce the way it was meant to be, mostly organic and not coated in edible wax necessary to transport the stuff you get at your local grocery store. It’s been so good that I want to capture some of that summer flavor for the winter months. Plus, just look at the equipment I get to use! It’s like I’m Professor Farnsworth.
Come Saturday I plan on dropping some serious change on fresh tomatoes and maybe some other goods. Jamey will cook up the tomots into some of her delicious sauces, and we’ll put those in cans to save for the winter.
I know how domesticated this makes me, and I’m more than okay with that. Food is so wonderful and amazing and so universal that I love experimenting with it. Cooking and baking are chemistry in action, what nerd wouldn’t enjoy that? I’ll let you know how the experiment goes.
I’ve heard horror stories of my granny cooking a chicken in a pressure cooker only to have the lid explode, and there’s the famous scene from Breakfast at Tiffany’s where the whole thing explodes covering the kitchen in ooze. Lets hope that doesn’t happen to me and mine.