My CLmooc friends doodle every day.
Prompt Week: Kitchen —- Today: Stove/Oven
Another Art as Memory
That’s my mom’s stove, It’s a gas stove and we were only allowed to use it after she checked the pilot lights because we were not allowed to light them ourselves, ever– until finally as a teenager mom taught me how so I could do some cooking when they were off fishing or camping. My mom was a worry-wart. I know why I am.
The tea pot is mine– my mom would have had an old drip percolator type pot, but I chose to draw the blue tea kettle on the gas flames beside the freshly dropped chocolate chip cookie batter.
That tall white part on the left– that’s a cover for the burners. Just pull it down to look neat have more counter space. But it was NEVER down– the coffee pot was always there.
The lower right drawer was a broiler– which we were never allowed to use, but which for years was how mom made toast, sometimes burned. Ha. She called it charcoal and said it was good for us.
We did have a waffle pan that rests over the flame. I still have that in my pantry as well, along with mom’s rolling pin. If we didn’t have a ceramic stove, waffle’s would be made at our house– it works perfectly– you get to know the perfect timing with practice, and I had a lot of practice with two teen-age boys years ago. If you look carefully at the picture where the top and bottom of the pan meet, you’ll see the “ball” on which the two parts — top and bottom– can be turned to toast the other side. Very clever device of cast-iron.
I don’t have a picture of mom’s stove– I’m pretty sure it’s a late 1930s gas stove, still in use in the 1980s, which says something about the manufacture of things “back in the day.” I googled until I found the style we had to use as a reference along with my memory.
I do have a picture of the bowl used to mix up the chocolate chip cookie batter AND the pan on which the cookies were baked. They are on my kitchen stove here:
Yes– those are my mom’s baking items. That is the same bowl in which my friend Vicki and I mixed up a batch of chocolate chip cookie dough one night late because, as teenagers, we were always craving chocolate chip cookies. Mom and Dad were still up as well, watching Johnny Carson, probably– or they were out camping at Lake Audubon.
Anyway, we looked at the oven and the batter and decided it would just be easier if we would just eat the batter. So while we continued with “girl talk” late into the night, we spooned out bits of batter — so delicious, until the tummy ache came later that night. No worries– we made it through, and fortunately, it did not ruin the taste of an occasional sneak of a spoonful of cookie dough.
And that’s the story of mom’s stove.
Geeky Gramma ~~
Retired Middle School Language Arts/Media Teacher ~~
Writer and Thinker~~
Art from the Heart