Thursday, June 07, 2007
What Makes Me Sad
D had her flue shot and right on cue a few days later developed a raging dose of it. She wasn't well enough to cook and I wasn't going to be home early enough to cook either, so I went to buy some KFC, D's favourite.
There is one piece of fried chicken that seems to dry out and becomes unappetizing, and that is the end breast piece, the part that contains the cartilage - the other pieces that have breast meat come on the bone and don't dry out to the same extent. So I said to the server, "No end breast piece please." and he held up a drumstick and asked if that was what I meant.
I'm sad about that.
The next night I got home early to cook some comfort food, mac & cheese. I put on the pasta to boil and made a bechamel sauce well flavoured with grana padana & peccorino. Next I went to get the colander from the cupboard to drain the pasta, which was sitting inside my favourite ceramic bowl, an English one with a bold inset pattern, the large one I use for cake batters and such like. It has been a good friend for more than twenty years, helping mix the cake that I brought along to the first meal I ever had with my wife.
What I didn't notice was that a nest of frying pans was resting against the bowl as their opposite edges were uplifted by a stray box grater, pushing against the bowl. As I lifted the colander out of this ceramic bowl, the weight of the frying pans acted upon it and it shot out of the cupboard like a frightened bird, only it couldn't fly and broke into a thousand pieces on the floor.
Now I'm really sad. I'm also sorry that the last word the bowl ever heard was a word that I don't normally use. So here is a better one.
Vale.
There is one piece of fried chicken that seems to dry out and becomes unappetizing, and that is the end breast piece, the part that contains the cartilage - the other pieces that have breast meat come on the bone and don't dry out to the same extent. So I said to the server, "No end breast piece please." and he held up a drumstick and asked if that was what I meant.
I'm sad about that.
The next night I got home early to cook some comfort food, mac & cheese. I put on the pasta to boil and made a bechamel sauce well flavoured with grana padana & peccorino. Next I went to get the colander from the cupboard to drain the pasta, which was sitting inside my favourite ceramic bowl, an English one with a bold inset pattern, the large one I use for cake batters and such like. It has been a good friend for more than twenty years, helping mix the cake that I brought along to the first meal I ever had with my wife.
What I didn't notice was that a nest of frying pans was resting against the bowl as their opposite edges were uplifted by a stray box grater, pushing against the bowl. As I lifted the colander out of this ceramic bowl, the weight of the frying pans acted upon it and it shot out of the cupboard like a frightened bird, only it couldn't fly and broke into a thousand pieces on the floor.
Now I'm really sad. I'm also sorry that the last word the bowl ever heard was a word that I don't normally use. So here is a better one.
Vale.
9 Comments:
I think we (and I'm not sure if I mean all speakers of our language or just you and me, Neil) need a special word for the melancholy felt after breaking or losing an object of great sentimental value.
So sad, but also an opportunity for you and your wife to choose another bowl that you will love for the next twenty years.
On the KFC front - oh dear... maybe part of the training they get should include a module on "recognising chicken pieces in the field" so to speak... And you are right - that is the KFC piece that dries out the most. I'm a thigh girl myself, in moments of culinary weakness ;-)
And comiserations on your bowl - as you say, may it go well to the great kitchen cupboard in the sky. I always take something breaking as a grave personal affront and get disproportionately upset - probably the most inexplicable aspect of my personality as far as my husband is concerned!
Both those things would make me sad too. But I do agree, choosing a new "favorite" bowl can also be fun.
(As to using that word, I have to be very careful not to get upset enough I would say it in school! That would be very sad indeed. And where I work, you'd probably get a letter in your file for saying it in front of students. Luckily I say it rarely, but an incident like this could push me to that point!)
ohhh Neil .. i am sorry about the bowl .. but smiling at the ways you look after your beloveds. I'm in the u.k. so if there's a chance i can find a similar bowl for you i'm happy to go on a mission! i do live in "the potteries" ...
I always consider this but it is so much better to use the things we love and make more memories and recall them as we use something. Not using something we love ends the building of memories and is an even bigger loss. At least it seems that way to me.
Hope there's a new bowl full of memories yet to be discovered.
Awww Neil, I'm so sorry to hear about the bowl :( And I hope that D is feeling better soon!
Aww...I second what Cindy said about the bowl. I know just how you feel.
Shortly after my mother passed away, I was dusting the mantle and knocked over a glass candleholder that she had given me years ago, shattering it in a hundred pieces. I felt just awful. Sometimes, we really need a special word.
Hi cindy, you are so right. I was even trying to amuse myself and perhaps you by making one up, but nothing sounded (or felt) just right.
Hi lydia, I suppose we could choose a stainless steel bowl that would see us through to the end of our days, but I don't know, that doesn't seem right either. Not enough warmth perhaps.
Hi jeanne, I'm right there with you on the thigh front, much more flavour. I do believe I felt exactly as you described it.
Hi kalyn, I think you would have said it for sure, it was such a lovely bowl. But for the time being, it is noted on my *file*
Hi shell, thank you so much, but I reckon the postage would kill that idea. I do believe an old friend dropped in on you this week, kind of slack isn't he!
Hi tanna, you're so right, I never moolycoddle something because it's too precious. Everything must earn its keep!
Hi ellie, yeah, it was a bit sad, but D is much better now. Thanks for asking.
Hi gigi, I have a couple of handpainted plates that my mum did before she died, I don't know how I'd feel if something were to happen to them.
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