Fish Tales

Back in the day, Eric drank his coffee black and I loaded mine with sugar so it was always quite humorous when one of us would misjudge the other’s mug for our own and drink from it. Whenever I took a swig of the bitter black coffee I would wrinkle my nose, swallow hard, and then dance around the kitchen in disgust. In Eric’s case, he would raise an eyebrow, spit the contents of his mouth back into the mug thereby rendering my coffee unfit for human consumption, stick out his tongue and go, “BLAH!” Then, without a word exchanged between the two of us, we’d switch coffee mugs and resume our conversation.

These days I too drink my coffee black so when the coffee mugs mingle we will investigate the Mystery of the Mixed-Up Coffee Mugs like trained law enforcement officers. Detective Eric will analyze the hard, physical evidence. I will interview the witnesses and reconstruct the crime scene. We will waste two (maybe three) minutes of our lives attempting to solve the mystery before we determine that it doesn’t really matter and sip from a mug within reach. But, always, the same mix up will occur fifteen minutes later and we will find ourselves once again trying to crack the case.

I think for his birthday this year I am going to get Eric a coffee mug that reads, “ERIC’S MUG” and it will have a picture of his face on it. Get it! Ha! Mystery solved!

I know what you think when you open the refrigerator and stare into it. Your eyes rest on the vegetables mingling on the shelves and in the draws. You notice the way your radishes are softening, your beet greens are wilting, your scallions are browning, and your shitake mushrooms are melting. You think, “What a goddamn shame.”

You have done your best to avoid wasting food. You plead with Eric to take leftovers to work with him rather than allowing him to buy his lunches. You make a fresh vegetable dish every night. You reuse and recycle what you can. But you are only one human being. There are only so many meals you can eat in a day. There are only so many recipes you can conjure from the depths of your rapidly-growing cookbook collection. Those vegetables begin dying the day they enter your refrigerator. You can’t win the battle against time.

But you are bound and determined to go out with a fight. Hastily, you reach into that refrigerator and grab at everything which won’t last a day more. Frantically, you begin chopping. Clumsily, you toss your orgy of vegetables into the food processor. With a little olive oil and a manly dose of garlic, you puree. You pulse. You taste. You reach for the spices. You puree. You pulse. You taste.

You smile. It’s good. Real good. You do a little victory dance. Thank the gods for the invention of the food processor. And then you name your art. Despite the fact that you are alone, you talk aloud. “I’ll name it ‘Olive You Madly Dip’.” It’s a good name.

Olive You Madly Dip now sits in a plastic container in the refrigerator. It is waiting its ultimate test: The Husband. If he doesn’t like it, he will nod his head and politely say, “It’s good. No really. It is.” If he loves it, his eyes will grow wide as they do every time he bites into something delicious and he will say, “Oh Aubbie! This is good!” And he too will do a dance.

By tomorrow afternoon my avocadoes should be plenty ripe to make an exquisite organic guacamole. I am even flirting with the idea of making my own tortilla chips. As pathetic as it sounds, I am looking forward to it and have been since the day we received our avocadoes. 

It’s funny how priorities change as we age. I would have laughed and laughed and laughed had someone asked me several years ago if I thought I’d be ecstatic about making homemade guacamole. Hell, several years ago I could even stand the thought of homemade anything if I was the one doing the making. My idea of cooking was to open a can of soup or boil a few noodles before I dumped a package of cheese powder over them. Now, I dice slice season sauté boil and blanch like a pro. I go out of my way to avoid pre-packaged foods, I avoid any foods with ingredients I cannot pronounce, and I thrive off of organic produce purchased from local farmers. I can’t even stand to step foot in a conventional grocery store these days. If I do, it is to pick up laundry soap or razors.

Of course, I never thought that I’d one day marry and move to California either. I mean… California? Don’t get me wrong. California is great. But from the vantage point of a born and bred East Coaster, it didn’t look appealing. Mudslides, earthquakes, the rich and famous, Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger. For christ sakes, the people of California elected The Terminator to govern their state. The Terminator!!! 

But my priorities have changed and, as a result, I am feeling “old” for the first time in my life. At what point did cleaning my house become priority over sleeping in? When did I put away my cinderblock and 2×4 bookshelf for a sleek contemporary piece of furniture that is outrageously pricey? When did I trade in pre-packaged convenience for the lush, exotic do-it-yourself culinary experience? Why am I gitty for guacamole?

A few big events for us this weekend:

1. Our friends Thomas and Adrienne welcomed their second child into this world. Beatrix Morningstar Marriott was born on Friday evening. A healthy, eight-pound baby girl who is so cute even Eric could not resist her charm.

2. Last week, Eric and I (along with our friends Matt and Michelle) signed up to participate in a Community Supported Agriculture program. Every week for the next four weeks we will receive a box of seasonal fruits, vegetables and herbs from two local organic farms. This week we received our first box-o-veggies that included a huge diversity of leafy greens including but not limited to: arugula, kale, some purple type of lettuce, mustard greens, and dandelion greens. We also got a few blood oranges, a few regular oranges, avocados, lemons, tomatillos, tomatoes, scallions, and fresh coriander. Personally, I am ecstatic about the items. Woot!!!! Organic veggies!!!!

3. We bought some real furniture this weekend which is very sexy and will look fabulous in our nifty, urban loft.

4. I joined a book club here in San Diego. Last night I attended my first meeting. The members of this club are wonderful people. There is an incredible diversity among the members which makes for a lovely, intellectual discussion group. I am looking forward to the next meeting in February.

5. Finally, photo night is back on the menu! After we bought our Nikon, Eric and I started “Photo Night” as a means to motivate us to learn to use the camera. Each month we would assign a theme. Then we would have approximately four weeks to take various pictures of our own interpretations of that theme. After four weeks, we would make dinner, pour wine, and present our photographs to each other. This time around it is extra exciting because Matt and Michelle wish to participate.

In lieu of Christmas presents and family and elaborate festivities, Eric and I decided to make a scrumptious breakfast to celebrate our first Christmas as a married couple. And scrumptious it was. In fact, if I ate like that everyday I might never leave the kitchen. Or the couch for that matter.

Christmas Menu 2007

Vegan sausage gravy (made with tempeh and lots of savory spices)
Not so vegan biscuits (I didn’t want to waste money on ingredients we would never use again so we turned to Pillsbury for help)
Sweet potato hash (with all spice and watercress)
Definitely not vegan bacon (from Whole Foods)
Orange juice
Coffee

Now, I might have to go back to bed. All that food + a 6:30 a.m. wake up call from the East Coasters = Sleepy but happy Aubbie.

Last night we ate at SipZ Fusion Cafe. Our dinner was quite good. I had the Spicy Basil dish and Aub’ had the Drunken Noodles. However, it was the dessert that really impressed us. Dessert was served inside a freshly macheteed coconut. Inside said coconut was an addictive mixture of sweet rice, yellow beans, and coconut cream. I swear I thought we were going to bite each other’s fingers off trying to get at the contents of that poor, unsuspecting coconut.