Ed, my occasional travel companion, has taken to watching clips from the NYT food section on the Net. It didn’t take long for him to start salivating for the food that was being prepared in that tiny little video box. Look here, tomato paella. Now, doesn’t that look just fantastic?
I can take a hint. And indeed, I have a paella pot that I brought home some while back from Spain. And so last night I made the tomato paella. Ed was blown away by it. Nothing I had ever cooked previously was so quickly devoured.
Great. At least it gave me something to photograph aside from weather patterns on Bascom Hill.
But could it be that I am supporting the creation of a monster? Today I see him poring over further video clips. Stuffed artichokes. Eggs with shrimp. Pan-seared salmon.
I say to him: Ed, I have a million cookbooks and a second million clipped recipies carefully taped into fat notebooks. You want me to cook something, go ahead, ask me. I have favorites that have become family legends of goodness. I can cook up a storm that’ll rival all kitchen storms.
I may as well save my breath. Ed relishes the act of discovery. If I come up with twenty great things to make, he’ll eat them in a distracted sort of way. But if it is of his own finding, his whole being lights up.
And so tonight it’s back to the NYT clips. Salmon in curry sauce this time. May this new love of food video-ettes end there. I mean, while I have no objection to making fried falafel (the clip he had me watch just today), I remain loyal to the cookbooks that have been collecting dust on my shelves for months. Years, perhaps.
Now, back to commentary on my ride to and from work and to observations about the weather on this busiest of busy work weeks: it was windy today. Nicely so. At least I thought it was nice. The sailboats by the Union? They were having a tougher time staying upright. Blown away by a hefty breeze.