Let's Make Latkes! And Some Other Stuff.

 I haven't posted a lot of pictures lately, so I'll make up for it today with these sky and Chesapeake Bay photos, taken from the back yard during a stormy, dramatic morning and a serene evening.

So much for that.

In other news, Mom's condition continues to deteriorate, but more dramatically than in the past.  Her family physician, who makes house calls to see her at Antique Village, noted a higher degree of confusion and repetitive conversation when he saw her a few weeks ago.  He was notified that Mom has been losing weight and eating less than she has in the past, so he popped over to examine Mom, ordered some blood work (which came back fine and showed no malnutrition) and testing for a UTI (so important in the elderly, and the first thing to check at the onset of confusion), and prescribed Ensure for her.

A former neighbor of Mom's, who visits her periodically, called me recently to tell me that she found Mom quite a bit more frail and memory-impaired when she saw her last week.

I'm grateful to know that others are keeping an eye on Mom.  It bolsters me, somehow.

Another development, which puts her firmly in the mid-to-late moderate dementia stage, is the recent necessity of removing the trash can and her toiletries caddy from her room.  She has been using both to urinate in at night.

I'm told that this is quite common and found some information about it during an internet search.

Mom has adjusted to the trash can being gone, but is having trouble understanding why the toiletries caddy was taken.

When I saw her yesterday, she mentioned it several times, after which I tried, gently and with compassion, to explain WHY the trash can and the caddy were gone, and promised that I would find an alternative for her toiletries.  She got a little angry and defensive when I explained things to her, but in the next breath, she started to tell the story, all over again, about her missing caddy.

I called her later on in the evening, and we (more like I) chatted about the nice lunch and drive we took earlier.  She didn't mention the caddy.

By today (and certainly earlier, I'm sure), she had forgotten that I was there at all yesterday.  An aide at Antique Village dialed our number and put Mom on the phone.  She asked if I would be coming up to see her today, because she didn't want to eat lunch if we were going out.

Which reminds me, too, that a short time after we finished lunch yesterday, as we were driving out in the country, Mom asked if we would be stopping to get something to eat.

I don't think Mom is using her phone much these days or is able to access her messages.  As a result, I occasionally get her messages for her.

Imagine my surprise, a few days ago, when I heard a message left for Mom from my brother.

I dutifully told Mom about it and wrote the information down on a notepad by her phone.

Still, I wondered why he was contacting Mom after not seeing her for nearly two years!

Ugh.  What can it mean?

Let's move on to the potato latkes, shall we?

Here's what you'll need:

2 pounds baking potatoes, peeled and grated

1 onion, peeled and grated

2 eggs

1/4 cup flour

4 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley (ha ha ha!)

Salt

1 cup vegetable oil

1 bunch of bananas

1 loaf freshly-baked onion bread

1 dog biscuit (not pictured)

Okay, forget the bananas, the onion bread and the dog biscuit.  I was just checking to make sure you were paying attention!

So, you're gonna peel your potatoes, right?  I used two large potatoes, but I don't think they quite equaled two pounds.  That's okay.  You can probably add another small-to-medium potato to make up the difference.

Then you're gonna grate them, okay?  But don't get carried away.  Otherwise, this could happen to you!

Fortunately, the small slice of skin blended right in with the grated potatoes!

Lucky for me that I'm left-handed, with a giant, hairy forearm, because I was next required to squeeze as much excess liquid out of the grated potatoes as possible.  (And, maybe you noticed that I scraped my RIGHT hand while grating the potatoes, and you're thinking, "Why did you injure your RIGHT hand if you're LEFT-handed?"  Well, all I can say is being left-handed is a complicated business, and a lot of us are cross-overs in very many ways.  Like bowling, for example.  I am a brain without a dominant side.)

Plop the squeezed potatoes into a bowl.

I don't see that piece of skin anywhere.  Do you?

It's not as easy to grate an onion, but do the best you can.  You might wind up with some big, left-over pieces, but you can chop 'em up with a knife.  Or you can continue grating every last piece of onion until you have no fingers left.  Even though the onion will be very liquid-y, you won't need to squeeze it like you did with the potatoes.

Okey dokey, then.

(Do you think this is enough "chopped fresh parsley?"  Ha ha ha.)

Okay.  Sorry about the parsley business.  It's just that I only have dried parsley on hand, and, just like YOU, I'm not about to dash out to the store for fresh parsley.  I'm over it now, so we can forge ahead.

So, as seen in the above picture, you'll add the grated onion, eggs, flour, parsley (snort!) and salt (an amount that only you can determine) to the grated potatoes.  I didn't do it, but you might want to lightly beat the eggs before adding them.  I dunno.

Mix well.

My kitchen isn't REALLY configured like a carnival fun house, but I wanted to show Pamela-J my breadbox up at the top there!  (And, OMG, I've just seen Pam's entry about my visit to her place yesterday.  I'm not gonna be able to top her post and can only say DITTO!  Such a total pleasure to meet and spend the afternoon with Pam and her hubby.  A successful and enjoyable first meeting on every level!  Thanks, Pam . . . I had so much fun.)

There, that's better.  So, you wanna heat the cup of vegetable oil in a heavy skillet over medium-high heat.  While that's heating, give your potato mixture a good stir, because, despite having forearms like Popeye and the strength of a stevedore, there was still be some liquid which had seeped to the bottom of my bowl of potatoes.

When the oil is hot, use a 1/4 cup measuring cup to scoop the mixture into the pan and flatten with a spatula into a 4-inch round.  Work quickly.  I was able to fry 3 latkes each time.  Turn the heat down to medium and cook until golden brown, about 3-4 minutes per side.

My first batch overcooked a little because it took some time for the temperature of the oil to decrease.  Just keep an eye on the edges.

Here's the first batch, flipped over.

In the end, the first 3 were a little over-done.  I had better luck with the 2nd and 3rd batches.

Batch two.  You can see they're a little lighter-colored than the first batch.  I used the oven timer for 3 minutes and wasn't shy about lifting them up to check the undersides.

Completed batch two.

I wound up with 9-1/2 latkes, and I think I would have gotten the dozen that the recipe called for if I had added another small/medium potato.

After frying, set the latkes on paper towels to absorb some of the excess oil.  You can serve with sour cream or applesauce, neither of which I had on hand.

 And if you're really, really adventurous, check out this article from the NY Times!

Comments

[Pam Jones]

I read the recipe very carefully ("chopped fresh parsley -- ha, ha, ha"), and now of course, damnit, I have to make it too (by "too" I mean, of course, in addition to the Midnight Cake). But I think, just to be contrary, I won't peel the potatoes. I never peel potatoes because, well, because I'm lazy and I sort of feel sorry for the peels. They're edible, right? They don't hurt anyone, right? And they must have nutrients too, right?

The pictures are so beautiful, especially knowing that you get to see that view any time you look out your living room windows. The greens in the bottom one are so soothing.

Your brother: you can bet that his phone call means he's looking for something. For himself. It would be nice to think that he called your mom for HER sake, but that doesn't seem very likely. Screw him.

And your mom: It seem cruel to wish for someone to fall even deeper into their disease, but when it comes to Alzheimer's, it seems like a blessing (for her, certainly not for you). I've spent a lot of time thinking about what it must be like to know you have a progressive dementia. Soon she won't "know" it in the sense we mean by the word. Or is that just wishful thinking on my part?

Nice breadbox. Do you always keep your bananas on display like that? Or are they just holding the spot until a luscious cake appears?

[Margaret]

Brother wants something from your mom. He's no peach from what you've told me. (the opposite!) These potato latkes look AMAZING. My mouth is watering.

[The Complaint Department]

Pam--I see no reason why the potato peel should not be left intact. I like potato skin, and often don't bother peeling. I'm also someone who eats the skin of a baked potato.

The bananas are in the place where they usually are, until they begin to turn black and squishy, at which time they are removed to the freezer for future banana bread. The cake stand hardly gets used as such. I can't remember the last time I made a round layer cake.

[The Complaint Department]

Margaret and Pam--I don't know what to make of the call from Paul. I know for certain that he doesn't visit Mom, even though he lives just 15 miles away. I periodically ask the assisted living staff if he's put in an appearance (no), and I never see his name on the resident sign-out sheet which must be signed if taking a resident out. I'll see if anything comes of the call. And I can't be sure that he doesn't call Mom once in a while, because Mom would not be able to reliably recall something like that.

[Pam Jones]

Aha! I'm getting ready to make my first batch of latkes so I was re-reading your post (so much fun) and I was reminded that you're left-handed. Well, that explains a lot. Left-handers are, in my experience, always enormously interesting people. And smarter than average. And sometimes a bit off-center. (And I mean that as a compliment.) Will report on the latkes. Hoping I don't bleed into the bowel.

[The Complaint Department]

Pam, I'll be waiting to learn how the latkes turn out for you. Tony and I just finished the last of them today. I must say, they were not bad at all, cold, right from the fridge. I did put one in the microwave to reheat it, but, by doing so, the lovely crunchiness was eliminated. I was left with a soggy, though tasty, mess.

A true lefty I don't think I am, though I would love the claim all those flattering (mis)conceptions about lefties. I'm very inclined to use my right hand for a lot of things, too. Mom and Paul are both lefties, as well.