I always wear an apron in the kitchen (because I don’t like my clothes getting dirty) and can daily be found on my porch with a broom (because maintenance seems to believe mowing the lawn should be a twice- or thrice-weekly occurrence).
But my fertile tomato plants have pushed me to a new realm of domesticity.
Two hours ago, this:
To be fair the chocolate romas are actually from a coworker as an exchange for cherry tomatoes. I figured with so many romas I’d go for sauce, and better to make a decent amount if I was going to put in the effort.
(The cherry tomatoes are delicious but it’s getting a little boring to eat them all; thankfully my coworkers love to grab them from the plate I’ve been putting on my desk each day. Both plants have long since outgrown their cages, and if I had room for them to stretch their limbs would probably be eight feet tall.)
And I couldn’t figure out what to do with my beefsteaks, so I threw a few of them in there, too. (Two in this picture actually moved to the fridge.)
I’ve never made homemade tomato sauce. I’m hopeful that it’ll make my mom’s spaghetti sauce recipe even yummier — though it’s already so good it’ll be hard to top.
Since I was in the mood for experimenting with domesticity, this morning there was this:
And now there’s this:
I’ve never made yogurt from scratch either, but Karen‘s never steered me wrong. Considering my current yogurt addiction, and the fact that the recipe is primarily “let milk sit in the oven for a long time”, I figured I should give it a shot.
Lest you think I’m getting a little too domestic, let me assure you that my living room currently looks like this:
Yup. Just keeping it real.