Buy ahead, plan ahead, be prepared. I practice that philosophy – especially in the kitchen. With a car load of kids I keep a picnic basket ready to go. So, many years ago, when we headed out to Disney World with our five of sons, I planned to spend our money on Mickey Mouse, not MickeyD’s.
I expertly made sandwiches in the car on the ride down to Florida. At the hotel, I pulled out the camp stove, set it up, lined up spaghetti and tomato sauce and prepared to cook. And, I would have – if I had remembered to pack pots and pans.
We ate sandwiches. The next day I went shopping at a thrift store for a couple beat up-pans and cooking utensils.
Before heading out to see the mouse, the dog and the duck, I boiled water for the promised spaghetti. It was bubbling away merrily. The kids laid out plates and silverware for a hot meal – and the tank ran out of propane. My husband left to find fuel.
After that, pots, pans and plenty of propane went into the car first including the trip to our oldest son’s graduation from basic training in the Army. With kids and company to feed, I had the skillet hot and the eggs sizzling when I reached for the salt and came away empty. Ever resourceful, my husband scraped salt off a couple of pretzel sticks to make a palatable dish of eggs.
I added a traveling package of salt and pepper to the picnic basket.
I learned all those lessons years ago and decided to share the adventure of cooking on a camp stove with the granddaughters.
Before heading out, my husband helped me pack up eggs, butter, skillet, matches, a lighter, salt and pepper. We had everything – except a table cloth I realized staring with dismay at the park’s raunchy looking picnic table. I resolved to make one from my stash of red checked, gingham. Meanwhile one enthusiastic grandfather hauled out the tank of gas, attached its hose to the stove, turned on the gas and quickly turned it off at the sound and smell of leaking gas.
The stove inspector found the leak – a deathly ding in the brass fittings. It would have to be replaced. We ate cold cut sandwiches, went to buy a new connector and ended up having to purchase a new tank of gas because the old one would not work with the new connector.
At the house, the girls planned to make chocolate chip cookies. The baker of the day pulled out everything needed in the recipe and started measuring butter and sugar to cream together.
The butter-flavored shortening came up short. We made up the difference with margarine and vegetable shortening. The flour canister came up a cup shy of the necessary amount for making cookies. I could not find any a sack of flour in the freezer, the pantry or the top, top shelf in the cupboard.
We substituted a cup of Beignet mix from Cafe DuMonde lending the cookies a delightful French flavor.
Rice Krispy treats sounded easy and fun … but we did not have that kind of cereal. So we used chocolate and vanilla flavored cereal bombs and the left-over chocolate chips. The guest cooks thought they had landed in chocolate heaven.
Before heading out for the long trek to their house, we loaded up the new tank of gas, the new stove connector, the new table cloth and the 30-year-old camp stove.
Back to the park we went. Back to the table with the old orange camp stove. The connector fit – but we had nothing to connect to the third end – which lacked a seal. It hissed noxious gas fumes.
Back to the store my husband went to exchange for a single connecting tube. Later – much later – he returned. Adhering to the philosophy that no one can have too much chocolate we set out ingredients for No-bake cookies – and the jug of milk tipped and spilled on the ground. My husband drove off to find more milk.
Finally, the cook of the day had everything in place and began measuring ingredients to make cookies.
She lit the burner. A paltry, blue flame feebly glowed. We studied that nearly invisible flame, waved our hand over it and decided to try the other burner. The pan warmed up, bubbles appeared in the chocolate mix and then it all went out and would not start again. The pipes had rusted. We ate cold chicken, crackers and fruit. As I said, I come prepared – if we can’t heat, at least we will eat.
(The usually well prepared, Joan Hershberger is a reporter at the News-Times. E-mail her at jhershberger@eldoradonews.com.)