Antlers, Cast Iron, and Eggs. Oh My!

The Mountain Man and I had been dating a mere two weeks when Christmas rolled around. To gift or not to gift was something we had not discussed. Which was why I was quite surprised one evening when, after loading up our plates with a tasty home-cooked meal and sitting down to eat, I noticed a brown paper bag sitting under my Christmas tree.

Mid chew, with a mouth full of pasta, I looked at him and asked, "Wha's tha?" He smiled that perfect crooked smile I love. "You'll just have to go down there and find out."

He had given me my first Christmas gift from him. All wrapped up in a brown grocery bag was cast iron cookware.

Did I forget to mention that cooking is not my strong point and I don't spend much time in the kitchen unless I'm pouring myself a glass of wine or looking for something edible on the nearly bare shelves of my lonely refrigerator? Was this a hint? I eyed him suspiciously. He had an expectant smile on his face. And then I remembered. He swears by cast iron cookware. And that might be an understatement. The first time he cooked for me in my kitchen and pulled a Teflon pan out of the cabinet I thought I was going to have to pick his jaw up off the floor for him. Apparently Teflon is bad for you and can cause cancer. Cast iron cookware now rules in our kitchen, the Teflon pots and pans gather dust on the bottom shelves. Which is what most of my kitchen utensils were doing until my cooking, baking, and frying machine of a Mountain Man showed up.

I wasn't displeased with my gift by any means. I was happy that he was thoughtful enough to get me a gift at all and that he had gotten me something that he knew would be good for me and we would use together. In fact, we do so much cooking together that these new cast iron essentials have become a mainstay on my stove. Cast iron does take some maintenance. To keep them doin' their thing and doin' it well, you need to oil them after they are cleaned. Just pour some oil on the clean and dry pan or pot, let it burn off and then wipe dry. Then put them away. Those first few steps don't always get done, so this happens:

Please excuse the messy stove top. This was taken after quite the messy fried-chicken and apple pie making sesh. Which was done by yours truly. As an early Valentine's Day surprise (and not to conflict with what I already know are his V-day plans for us - he's making me my favorite meal) I made him dinner.

Yes, folks, I cooked. And baked. Check for flying pigs next time you step outside.

My man loves to eat. Which explains all the cooking. A man with as big of a hunger as he has, complete with a very strict sense of frugality, he cooks at home a lot to save money and stay full, which is easier said that done. I meant the part about him staying full. We've had his favorite meal a few times now. It's an easy one. Fried chicken with homemade honey-mustard dipping sauce, mashed potatoes, and apple pie. What a good American. Not to mention he won't even buy hardware tools if they aren't made in America.

I've been playing around in the kitchen a bit lately, mostly when he is there to help me with the ingredients, or rather when I offer to help what he's already started. Nevertheless I knew what I wanted to do. Blow him away by surprising him with dinner. His favorite dinner.

Long story short, and what could quite possibly be a whole other blog post, the cooking and baking went very well. Even with a late start and a short freak-out session. I didn't get pictures, but I did snap one of the half-eaten pie before it's gone.

The picture doesn't do it justice. But that super flaky crust you see is delicious. And those red spots are raisins. Who knew raisins were so good in pie?! Well, I didn't.

Speaking of cooking and baking and all that jazz. You should see my fridge. If only I had a before picture to really get you to grasp the meaning of the after picture...

This is the fullest my fridge has ever been. There are leftovers, milk that hasn't gone bad, fresh fruit and veggies, and ingredients that I have learned work together to make actual meals.

And I'm sure most of you thought it was the woman's job to introduce domestic skills such as cooking and baking to the man. Well, my friends, I have proven this to not always be the case. And don't be fooled, there are definitely signs of a true man partially dwelling in my home....

Hot sauce is the condiment of choice for men. I've never seen someone get so excited in a grocery store when we found this extra large bottle of Frank's RedHot sauce.

And you must have plenty of eggs to feed a hungry Mountain Man...

And every time I open my drawer to reach for a spoon for my Greek non-fat yogurt, that thankfully doesn't get touched by him, I see these...

A hunting knife, which is apparently better than my dull kitchen knives. I've already lost the battle on this one. I may have a future of hunting-like knives in my kitchen, but there are other battles to worry about winning.

Oh, and yes I do have silverware, just not any clean ones at the moment.

Besides the kitchen getting a Mountain Man makeover, the rest of my apartment has some new items.

A nice collection of deer and elk antlers have found their way into my home. Right now that is exactly where they sit. Looking like some kind of trap to caution against anyone that might try and steal my tiny little flat screen TV that fits just right in my tiny little entertainment center. But I've welcomed them, the antlers. I see them as decorations. I'm sure he's thrilled to have his precious "sheds" sitting next to my candles and books and picture frames. In all honestly, I really think he loves it.

Excuse the dust...apparently it shows up more with the flash of a camera. And apparently I need to do some dusting.

But my favorite use by far for the antlers is when they are used as a toy by my grown man of a boyfriend. With an antler nestled into his shoulder, I've walked into the room to see him pointing it at the TV, pretending it's a gun, complete with sound effects and arm movements. It's a priceless picture. I can see him, five years old and doing the same thing. And I can also see him, years from now and doing the same thing with his young son. Isn't that what we love about our men, ladies? That they never truly grow up.

But they are grown up and when they love you it shows. Which is why my Mountain Man took the time to mount my deer antlers onto a plaque. The antlers from my first deer, that I shot at home in Bickleton in the fall of 2010.

We haven't got it up on the wall yet but I'm so appreciative of his hard work and thoughtfulness. He even burned this into the wood:

What a sweetheart. Did I mention I don't mind all the things he's brought into my home since we started dating? I don't at all.

Sidenote: The Mountain Man and I do not live together, but we do spend a lot of time at my place, including all the cooking and baking that we love to do together. And the antlers have found their home with me for storage reasons. When the day comes that we do live together there will be plenty more "whaaaat am I gonna do with that thing???" moments. So far it's just food, heavy cookware, and antlers. I'm such a lucky girl.