Friday, August 03, 2007

Josh's (late late late) Dinner Blog

It's a pretty decent rush, really, in our world where we otherwise get our rushes from squabbly confrontations with dudes at bars and tell them to walk away, yell it the second time, be surprised when they don't, watch your friend break it up, look on as the dude walks away, think about the possibilities involved as the dude sits on a nearby couch, and then with one hand and a sweep of the back really inappropriately loudly flip the couch on its back and laugh at the dude when his drink hits him not on the face but on the shirt and leave a big huge we spot.

Yes, dinner's fun. From beginning to end. It's fun planning. It's fun to read the joy of cooking, out load and stentorianishly, when the room contains at least two other people who say they don't really want to hear it right now, not at the moment. It's fun to go whole foods, although I hereby invoke the fifth, in the casual sense, not the really strict technical legal one, folks. We're talking the Fifth Amendment of the United States Constitution of This American Country, and I've invoking it because it's one number higher than the fourth, which is two higher than my favorite amendment. The first amendment is awesome.

It's fun cooking too. A lot of its ineffable though. That's what good writing is about though. Plus it's hard. Plus it's another one of those still drunk in the morning deals that are kinda fun (see the whole problematic couch thing above).

It's also really fun not having any time to talk to any of your friends, who crowd the kitchen something really hot temperature-wise while the oven and range are also kicking out degrees. Well, it really is fun having a good excuse not to talk to people you didn't really want to come anyhow. Or, more importantly, to people who really didn't come to see you anyhow and would rather be eating your Fifth Amendment grub and talking with someone else more charming (but less handsome).

It's also really fun talking to friends and pals and buddies and strangers who are friendly. It's important to be friendly, and I mean friendly. Like that which characterizes a friend, not just nice or talky or sociable. Sometimes the food sucks, though, because it's really hard timing things.

That's what I've really learned. The timing is tough. It's the hardest part, and momma Y made it look so easy. I mean, it hard knowing when to put the steak on the grill, man. You already started the goddamn coals aburning a while ago, and you killing yourself inside for maybe probably light them things up too early because you were worried that these two fucking tricky sauces we going take a long time because they names are francois gaulois might at well be patois. And then you put too much goddamn cursed corn starch in the thing, or even worse you stand idly by while someone else does, and then your whole rationalization for putting the steak on late just goes out the window, the second story window, and the coals aren't getting any hotter, man, because coals don't do that, not when you're cooking with them. And then you also screw up timing when you forget about things, which momma Y also never seems to do. But maybe she just doesn't talk about that because she truly completely utterly forgets them and doesn't even remember that there was anything ever at all. That's pretty terrifying though. Forgetfulness is terrifying, primitively painful just to behold and think about, and getting in the shoes, like they say, of forgetfulness when you're not that far removed from same (see the whole couch thing, which it's really comforting to remember, like I somehow felt my blood sort of replace itself back in my body and not gang up on my head, the part between the forward sides of my skull near the eye things) is positively awesome and breathtaking and terrifying. If you really want to feel stress at its most evolutionarily fundamental level, just try really really hard to imagine what's it's like to have your memory go out the window. You'll find that you lose your entire person and self and world and hates and loves, and you'll find that you lose the contextual apparatus to make even the simplest judgments about these things at all. You'll find that you've got nothing. You'll find nothing. Nothing will find nothing. Nothing will not find anything. Or even try.

That's why it's important to write down all the happy thoughts dinner call to mind. Uh oh, I was supposed to buy a salad for this office pot luck going away party that's happening. It just announced. It's happening the in the fifth floor conference room, I believe. It's cool. I'm out like shout anyway, suckers.

So be friendly. That's all we got, and it's a lot.
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1 Comments:

Blogger Jeff said...

We have different corstarch philosophies, JNY. Whatever amount you put is exactly the right amount. That is the beauty of cooking for drunks.

7:46 PM  

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