Tag Archives: cooking

Pardon my lack of enthusiasm

Recently a friend asked me if I was getting excited about our upcoming vacation. I was a little surprised to be asked that; why should I get excited? What is there about a family vacation to get excited about? I shrugged my shoulders and said, “No.” He looked puzzled and mildly disappointed.

In reflecting on this exchange, which was clearly unsatisfying for both of us, I recognized some fundamental differences in our perspectives. As the primary breadwinner in his household, my friend holds down a full-time job at a place of business; when he goes on vacation, he doesn’t have to go to work. Whatever he does on vacation, it’s guaranteed to be entirely different from his usual daily/weekly routine.

When I go on vacation, my job comes with me. I still have to work, doing what I do every day. The setting and circumstances are different, but I’m still responsible for making sure people get up, get dressed, and get where they’re going on time. I still have to plan meals, even if I don’t prepare them or clean up after them. I still have to coordinate transportation and schedules, and I still have to enforce rules and arbitrate disputes.

This isn’t a bad thing; a change of scenery can be refreshing, as can a change in routine. But it hardly qualifies as “getting away from it all” when you bring most of it with you, now, does it?



Tag, you’re it!

Thanks to another blogger I follow, Emily at Pajama Days, I have something to write about today. It seems that a popular form of spam-mail has made its way into the blogosphere: The List of Revealing and/or Amusing Personal Questions. In the e-mailverse you answer a series of questions about yourself and forward it to everyone you know. By this means we are all supposed to become better acquainted with one another, and I confess this has brought some surprising things to light about people I’ve known for years. In the blogosphere, you post your responses and invite readers to follow suit, asking them to post a comment with a link so you can read what they have written. Although I suppose the results are much the same, I find this version of the game far less intrusive and annoying, a kinder, gentler sort of chain letter, if you will.

So without further ado, here are my responses:

1. If you could have any superpower, what would you have? Why? Superpower? Heck, I’d be fall-on-my-knees-and-kiss-the-ground grateful to have ordinary powers.

2. Who is your style icon? Whoever dresses the mannequin at the Goodwill.

3. What is your favorite quote? Today it is: “Patient has two teenage children but no other abnormalities.” (From an unidentified medical chart.)

4. What is the best compliment you’ve ever received? To the best of my current recollection, which is severely limited and fragmentary, it was last night at the dinner table. I prepared a new recipe for supper, and everyone at the table had seconds and exclaimed both how good it was and how much they liked it. (I am notorious for trying out new recipes on my long-suffering family with mixed — or worse — results.)

5. What playlist/cd is in your CD player/iPod right now? I don’t have a CD player or an iPod.  Recently the classical music station I used to listen to switched to an all-day talk format, so I don’t even listen to the radio much anymore.

6. Are you a night owl or a morning person? By nature I am a night owl, but by decree of the school corporation I follow the schedule of a morning person.

7. Do you prefer dogs or cats? At this point I prefer pet rocks.

8. What is the meaning behind your blog name? My reason for choosing the name is lost in the mists of the above-mentioned memory deficiency. Right now, I’d say it serves as a reminder that the principles of entropy and decay are ubiquitous and unrelenting. In other words, there’s not a damn thing any of us can do about them so we might as well make the best of it.

It seems pretty obvious to me that I inhabit an entirely different universe from most of my fellow bloggers. Nevertheless, I invite you, gentle reader, to take part in this little exercise in self-exploration, whether or not you choose to share it with me.

Meatless spaghetti meat sauce

I read an article today about a woman looking for ways to make some of her cooking healthier. Her signature lentil soup, for instance, used sausage for flavor and texture, and it took a little ingenuity to come up with an acceptable substitution.

That got me thinking about a discovery I made many years ago when I was trying to reduce the amount of meat (and attendant fat) in the household diet. I was able to substitute lentils and ground poultry for sausage and hamburger in a number of recipes, but spaghetti sauce made with these instead of Italian sausage just tasted, well, anemic. Even if they had the right texture, the flavor wasn’t quite right.

To my immense disappointment, boatloads of garlic didn’t do it, though it did make us all very safe from vampires and people sitting next to us in public places. (I love garlic and generally subscribe to the belief that it’s not possible to have too much in any recipe. I have learned the hard way that not everyone shares my religious leanings on this.) Something was still missing.

I finally found that the one ingredient that separates Italian sausage from all other sausages, mild or hot, is fennel seed. I subsequently determined that adding fennel seed, lightly crushed with my mortar and pestle, made even meatless spaghetti sauce taste like, well, like meat sauce. Hearty and savory and rib-sticking good.

So there you have it: the greatest secret of my kitchen. And if you want to know real joy, grow your own fennel — it’s a beautiful plant (I recommend the bronze foliage variety) and is a preferred larval food for Black Swallowtail butterflies. Just be sure you harvest those seeds; it self-sows freely and sends down deep tap roots.

Black Swallowtail butterfly larva

Bon appetit and happy gardening!