9 December Friday

One Christmas, a friend suggested I think outside the so-called box when planning my dinner and directed my attention to a website where I could purchase whole saddle of kangaroo. I checked out the site, and there were many zoo animals one could purchase as food. I was forced to admit an uncomfortable truth- I am not that adventurous in the kitchen. Fortunately for me and at least one kangaroo, this deal was not available in the United States. We went with chicken.

I think I’ve got what you’d call the Old rotten prune blues. It happens. It happens to a man. Here I am, facing a stuffed pantry, almost overwhelming. Here I am, a man with time on his hands to devote to cooking and writing. Here I am, a man of limited means and limitless imagination. How to make the most of what we have is the key to artistry. Leonard Bernstein said something great about it once, but I can’t remember exactly how it goes.

If I’m honest, I still smart from that pack of sour prunes that ruined my Thanksgiving stuffing. I woke up at four thirty this morning and lay in bed listening for the rain. Silence. I get out of bed, put the coffee on and my shoes. I put the tv on very quietly, and it is presenting Laurel and Hardy’s Way Out West, one of their best, with the famous dancing scene. The storm is moving in, scheduled to arrive by six. I’ll have to take my morning walk now, in the dark. I go outside, and it has rained, the sidewalks are damp, and the air smells so clean and fresh, the perfect accompaniment for a hot cup of coffee. It is quiet, I am alone. My thoughts turn again to spoiled prunes. Why can something so sweet and lovely turn rancid and heinous as though on purpose? And in front of guests? What are these prunes trying to teach me? There is no joy in hiding treasures, you can’t enjoy tomorrow what is only fresh today.

In my fruit basket, there are a dozen fresh apples, picked right off a tree in Oakland. They are firm, crisp, incredibly juicy and completely natural, having never been sprayed or treated in any way. They have the occasional worm, and they deteriorate as things do in nature, which is to say quickly. Life is like this, now isn’t it? Eat the apple today, there is no later.

Inspired by mortality, I decided to do a pantry inventory of chocolate, nuts, dried fruits, and flours. All is good and well and right, but I must make use of these ingredients while we’re still in our prime. Let’s see what I come up with. My food is teaching me so much this week!

In the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, on the trail of the lonesome pine. This is one of Stan and Ollie’s best films, it seems more improvised and free, the great James Finlayson at his mustache twisting villainous best.