Miscellaneous.

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Lunch for one

I'm at the stage that Jeff Foxworthy once called "'Rolling pennies for gas' broke." Which means that I'm eating my cupboard foods and cleaning out the refrigerator (if it's not too scary). Lunch was lentils, and very satisfying they were too.

How do I explain to those of you who don't or can't cook what making myself lentils for lunch meant to me? The cookbook that I usually use for lentils is on loan to someone else. I remembered the recipe (sort of), but decided not to make extra as they aren't a meal that I like to repeat too quickly. This meant that I used my memory and what I call my mental palate to recreate the recipe. I used the back of the container for proportions so that I didn't make too much.

And then, just for me, I cut up an onion and minced some garlic and sauted them in the good olive oil. Pepper and thyme are part of the recipe, but did it also call for bay leaf? Maybe, whatever. I added bay leaf, and as I was putting it away I saw the savory and added that too. The lentils were rinsed and picked over quickly since I wasn't using much. Some wine, lots of water, bring it all to a boil and turn it back to a simmer. Just as I did that, I realized that something was missing -- a pinch of cloves went in, and after a quick stir, I put on the lid and left it for fifteen minutes.

I came downstairs to make some more tea and added a little salt. Salt is important in so many ways. If you add it at the right time, the flavors are enhanced and blended better than if you left it out. If you wait too late, you'll need much more than if you put it in at the right time. If you add salt to lentils at the beginning of cooking, they'll be tough.

Ten minutes of simmering later I had lunch. I added a tablespoon of olive oil to enhance the flavor, but it didn't need anymore salt. That pinch of cloves couldn't be tasted, but there was a mysterious little undercurrent to them that wouldn't have been there without it.

I cooked it for me. That's something new and different.

All that Jazz and Tomcats

Last night, I saw the movie All that Jazz for the first time since it's original release over twenty years ago. No wonder it didn't go over big with the audiences of its time. I don't remember hearing the term "magic realism" until five years later. The heart attack dance sequence is still sexy and disturbing. And Paula Abdul might have thought she was "paying tribute" to the Air-rotica dance in her Cold Hearted Snake, but I call it belittling.

The circumstances around seeing it for the first time came back to me. It was a first date movie for me. Poor guy. Poor me. At nineteen I wasn't ready for the imagery -- no that's not right -- I wasn't ready to be with someone I didn't know very well and absorbing that imagery.

And, as art should, it made me do some reassessments. I've had a quiet fear of heart issues and, worse, stroke. I can't afford a doctor. But I can afford to reread Dean Ornish's books. I can afford to look after myself a little, and encourage my better habits. I'll worry about discouraging the bad ones a little later.

By the time I'd rewatched all the dance sequences, I was ready for something lighter. So, jerminating and I watched Tomcats. The movie is an R-rated commedia dell'Arte script. I'm ashamed at how much I laughed. And Jerry O'Connell? SCORCHING!

Other Things

One of my housemates has a piano at her workplace. I can go there and practice. I don't want to be unemployed, but I love the idea of taking part of my day to play music. I have a guitar at home that I rarely play. I'm not very good, but I know that I won't get better without practice, but, I was better at the piano and I know that while I'll have a steeper curve to get back in form, my abilities were always higher there.

I don't know what it was, but I realized that both my parents are 70. They're both from long-lived families, but I'm having a hard time coming to terms with their mortality.

Tutoring is going well. The girl who was told she was stupid was permitted to go into 5th grade because she proved she could read well enough. I was really chuffed because I helped her with MATH the other day. The teachers are working on factoring and I showed her a little trick to help her with some of the higher numbers. It was obvious that she wasn't following what I was saying, but suddenly, as we were doing the final pair, I made her see the number 2000 as a twenty with two zeros. And we found the final factor pair. I swear I saw the little lightbulb go on over her head.

Comments

[kstanley.livejournal.com]

I have seen Kiss Me Kate--but I don't particularly remember the dance sequences. I'll be on the look out for it.