Dinner at the UN

July 21, 2006

It is definitely time to go grocery shopping over here. It’s not so much that the cupboard is bare. It’s simply at low tide. All the real food is gone, and what is left is the sort of things you find washed up on the beach of “good intentions to maintain a stocked larder”. Not only can I not combine the ingredients to create a meal. I can’t even raise a side dish.

Looking at them, I start thinking that I don’t need canned tuna or chicken broth or a more versatile cookbook. I probably need strong psychotropic meds to control the mood swings that brought me to this point.

The beignet mix from the Cafe du Monde makes sense. It’s not food. It’s a souvenir.
Of course, it’s a souvenir of New Orleans before Katrina.
Approximately three years before Katrina.
But for beignets you need a deep frier and a sense of initiative. I might manage the first part of that, but I haven’t had initiative in years.

And then, there’s the cactus. I try cactus every so often, trying to recreate the salad recipe from one of my favorite Mexican restaurants in Milwaukee. It never works. I think the fact that I am Polish does not give me the correct cultural heritage to do nopalitos. Something is missing. flavor-wise. I am now stuck at a point between cactuses, afraid to move forward and try again, but equally afraid to admit failure and throw the can away.

I have no explanation for the yucca. I am not sure exactly what it is. Or what to do with it. But it was on sale, and when I saw it, I was gripped with the feeling that I would never see yucca again, and carpe diem, it went in the cart.

This is the same reason I bought the stuff next to it.
Its name is name, N A M E, but with a tilda over the N. Not only can I not cook it, I’m not even sure how to pronounce it. And you get exactly the kind of useless results you deserve if you start googling for “name” recipes.

To top it off, I have two of everything, because I was convinced that, if I liked it, I might want another one right away. Now I’m stuck with a pantry that looks like what’s left in the fallout shelter, right before you eat the dog.

Tonight we had pizza. Who can blame us?