Change o' Pace Snowday

When the last giant snowstorm hit a few weeks ago I curled up in my bed and read all day which is totally unlike me.  Maybe it had something to do with the fact that David stayed home that whole day, briskly shoveling and paying the bills and starting on the taxes.  It just felt like the more he did, the less I had to do. (It's a marriage thing I think.)  But yesterday’s storm was a whole different thing. I woke up at 6:30 and seeing that the snow hadn’t started, jumped into my clothes and made that  7 o’clock yoga class at the Y. ‘Course then someplace between Downward Facing Dog and Corpse Pose the snow hit like a fist and a drive that had taken me 7 minutes on the way over took me 50 minutes on the way back. Hence by the time I stomped back into the kitchen with my snowy boots David was gone baby gone, off to the fun and camaraderie of office life, leaving me to have  about the most unusual day  I have ever had in that I did not read a single word during it nor even come into the same room as my conjoined twin the laptop.Instead, I stood all day cooking. And while I cooked I watched movies on HBO. And here is what I noted:

• Whoopi Goldberg does ‘dignified’ fine as in Mississippi Burning but is much more fun to watch swearing her head off  in Jumpin' Jack Flash.
• 11 years after Back to the Future Michael J Fox did a silly film called The Frighteners made tolerable only by the presence of those same scary black flying guys that go after Patrick Swayze’s killer in Ghost.
• Zooey Deschanel’s character really disappoints the kid from 3d Rock in 500 Days of Summer but she sure has cute teeth. They're actually real!
• And though it’s true that I’m getting just a teensy bit tired of  It’s Complicated I still love the scene where she’s smoking a joint in the bathroom with her caddish but lovable ex and laughing like a hyena –  right up until the moment she catches sight of herself in the mirror, stops short and says suddenly, tragically. “GOD, is that what I LOOK like?!”

She is having a moment everyone over 50 has had, lemme tell ya - which is why we older folks can no longer get by on looks alone but instead have to produce now and then. Which is also why on this particular snow day I…

• Broiled a pound of salmon,
• Made a shrimp and avocado salad,
• Mixed up a zingy meatloaf with oatmeal instead of breadcrumbs,
• Tossed up an Italian tuna and arugula salad,
• Roasted  sweet potatoes, dusting them first with sea salt and garam masala,
• Grilled a bunch of mushrooms,
• Culled, rinsed and steamed a world of pinto beans,
• And fried up mashed potatoes in butter 'til I had a wonderful golden pancake all bubbling and crisp at the edges.

All of which brings oddly to mind the lyrics to this old song, often sung to me by my mate:[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qh9ZZgDqzAg]

The JOY of Cooking?

Is anyone out there as sick of cooking as I am? I’m trying to eat carefully here in the new year but my God it’s a lot of work. Chopping up a butternut squash is harder than anything Tony's nephew Christopher ever did in the back rooms of Satriale’s if you get the reference. And peeling a mango and cutting it into edible pieces? It’s like peeling an elephant’s eyeball and then trying to dice it. I mean shouldn’t there be some sort of tool?This week I made enough mouth-watering entrées, soups and salads to feed an army, and all for a husband who won’t even sit down to eat anymore. The man is getting odd no doubt. His approach to a meal: get it down and move on to the next thing which for him is some left-brain project like Sudoku or the world’s most difficult crossword puzzle. Even when I’ve expended the last scraps of energy making Crab Cakes with Mango Relish or Slow Cooked Lamb and Fresh Thyme Stew I can’t get him to actually sit at the table with me …. Ok sure they’re from Weight Watcher’s kitchens instead of The Silver Gourmet’s but they’re great.Last night I served this whole fisherman’s delight of a spread with Garlic Steamed Spinach and Toast Points and I don’t know Fetal Tomatoes or some such and the only way I could get Old Dave to do something other than stand like a horse at a trough was to use On Demand to call up The Sopranos on the tube. All it took was offering him the episode where Ralphie gets his head cut off and he was rooted to his seat while he chewed. (Wait so where are those old TV tables? I think maybe the good old 1950s are coming back to haunt me...!)