Home and Garden Articles
posted on 1 September 2010
The kitchen is the most clean place in our house, because in the kitchen we prepare food, and we must make sure germs don't invade this space. In our home, the kitchen plays a major role in that all plates, water and fresh vegetables will be kept, and our kitchen will be clean, and all the vessels will be made up of stainless steel so that we can cook easily. We use gas so no pollution occurs, and we even use canvas shopping bags so we're not using plastic bag after plastic bag when we shop.
I am Indian so we will cook typical Indian food like chapathe, dosa, idly, rice,etc... they are all our regular food which will be prepared simply, and these are meals which all our family members love to eat. Cooking such food is a great tradition in our country and we love to carry this on. |
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posted on 28 August 2010
Fitted kitchens are my speciality, and I designed my own kitchen myself. Here's a day in the life of my kitchen!
Late in the spring and early summer, Zoey, Indiana Jones, and Milano waken at sunrise. Thankfully, in darker seasons they await the alarm clock. When I try to roll over or pretend I am still sleeping, Indy whines and Zoey pokes me hard in the shoulder. If Milano is very brave, or very hungry, he comes upstairs looking for me. Meanwhile, Indy squeaks louder and Zoey moves on to licking my face.
The dogs need to go outside, and Milano kitty’s mind is on food: he will have to wait a little longer. Zoey, Indy and I go for our quarter mile walk, and then we all gather in the kitchen. I lift Milano to his turf on the kitchen counter. I open the fridge to find the covered, open can of prescription cat food and a boxed bottle of insulin. He purrs loudly as I fork food into his dish. Then I draw insulin into a syringe and inject it into the fleshy place on the back of his neck, but he doesn’t flinch. As I put the insulin back in the deli meat drawer, I take the dog food, cheese or leftover Chinese food from the fridge.
The dogs watch hopefully, knowing sometimes the fare is tastier than other days. If they see me with the knife cutting meat on the chopping block, they are in ecstasy. I mix their food and carry it upstairs: they both eat in their crates. I work on a puzzle briefly as they eat, but then they jump back on the bed. Indy whines and motions with his head to return to the kitchen. Zoey is insistent, sometimes sitting and rocking back and forth as she sings – she reminds me of Ray Charles. “Do you want rawhide?” I ask. “Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes!” they answer.
They race me to the kitchen, where Milano mews loudly from the counter. He wants dessert, too, and I pour catnip-flavored treats into his bowl. “Thanks!” he purrs. Zoey looks up, waiting: she loves Milano’s treats and has learned to catch them mid-air. Indy circles, singing and pointing with his head to the closet where better things are stored. Zoey is done catching cat treats, and I open the closet to get them their meat-flavored, dental cleansing rawhide. They take it from me with such exuberance: they are like lovers on the party dance floor who kiss and rush to the starry canopy outdoors.
It has been another successful morning kitchen party at my house. |
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