Happy (Your Choice) Holiday

I unilaterally declare November 1 as the first International Pet Peeve (IPP) Day!

(FULL DISCLOSURE: I’ve discovered in writing this post that there is actually a Pet Peeve Week… the second full week of October… who knew!?)

Everything out there seemingly has it’s official day and flag (although I haven’t gone so far as to draw up a symbol for IPP yet).

This is a Lilliputian rant lamenting a change in our world. It’s a grain of sand in my shoes… a pea under my mattress… a first world problem, you get it.

And if I describe you in this post (heaven forbid!), please know that I accept and honour your choices and health needs.

We all have a part of us – larger or smaller- that rejects change; change irritates because we get comfortable in our patterns and routines… who wants to change their belly button fluff clean-out day from Tuesday to Thursday?

Anything new that makes us think deeply or differently, or creates a bit more labour for us is a nuisance, a fly in our soup. COVID is a full colony of flies in our soup!

Hear me out: I want to accept and embrace change where it leads to an objective improvement in the world.

I want to accept the many many rightful protests of those (you know most of them by now) whom have historically been under the thumbs of rich, white men (like myself minus the rich part).

So as I chastise you here – perhaps – for making my life a teensy bit more challenging, this is not authentic drama.

Let me move on and explain before you fall asleep…

One of my life delights, a passion you might say, is cooking. You too? Excellent!

Since the very first time I made fried rice as a 10 yr. old without realizing that rice should actually be cooked in a liquid before frying, I’ve loved to play in the kitchen.

Slicing, dicing, and piecing together the jigsaw puzzle that is a delicious ethnic dish (or baked good says my Sweet Tooth inner voice) of any sort is my “big boy sandbox” fun…

… lots and lots of ingredients and a healthy melange of various spices – although not too spicy hot in my latter years.

A good part of the joy comes in the sharing… inviting family or friends to join in on a hopefully succulent meal with maybe a splash of wine… well… this is likely the greatest reach towards heaven for me.

Here’s where my pet peeve kicks in… it’s the change part.

We are a global citizenship of 7+ billion folks with a similar number of likes, dislikes, nutritional requirements, and ailments that need attention, like the child excitedly calling out for Mommy’s awareness as she dives into the pool.

The internet (and some legitimate medical professionals) has untold stories of the horrors of dairy, grains/gluten, meat, chocolate, nuts/seeds, alcohol, the list is longer than Santa’s Naughty and Nice scroll. In millennia gone by, we were just too busy fighting the Huns and other hordes to question: Was Attila celiac? Or lactose intolerant? Or allergic to nuts, or vegan or ….

Part of our desire to live in a healthy state to 100+, as well as our desire to treat animals with respect has altered our collective perception of what we can put into our mouths and tummies.

And so… when we invite guests to share a meal nowadays, the puzzle pieces I can play with often don’t belong to the same boxed set as yours.

I scramble (but not eggs) to accommodate a lengthy list of do’s and dont’s that change with each visit. This tour of my table might require a lack of cheese, whereas the next drop-by says no chicken or perhaps tofu.

So let me say: I love you and understand your needs, but I’m sorry to say, a good deal of my “sandbox” joy has been sucked away by this Dyson vacuum of allergies, intolerances, and choices.

Like all changes thrust upon us, I’m adapting. I’m Yoda trying…

But also know when you drop in for a meal that the thinness of hair on my head is not only from my –granted – advancing age, but from the hair pulling I go through to make sumthin’ that, against growing odds, tastes like heaven for us all.

Happy IPP Holiday!

Gluten-Free, Dairy-Free, Sugar-Free, Carb-Free, Meat-Free … Is THIS Freedom?

 

All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt.”
― Charles M. Schulz

Has everything become verboten?

Everyone should have the liberty of free choice.

I’m 100% invested in freedom. All for it.

For millennia (and today still) we’ve worked and struggled and evolved, fought wars, disease, and terror … much of it in the name of freedom… freedom to do and be who we want.

But.

A little piece of this wonderful liberty scheisse is sending vexatious ants into my Calvin Klein’s. It shouldn’t, but it does…

FOOD.

Yes, glorious food. I love food.

I love food of almost every origin, every ethnicity, every food group, every farmer’s field or pasture from Dewar Lake, Saskatchewan to Cusco, Peru to Marrakesh, Morocco and beyond.

Childrens’ entertainer Fred Penner sings a cute little ditty about food… well, sandwiches to be truthful … but I’ll amend his words a wee bit for my purposes:

Food is so beautiful, food is so fine –
I like food, I eat it all the time.
I eat it for my supper and I eat it for my lunch;
If I had a hundred types of food, I’d eat them all at once!

.

Food is sustaining of life, the scrumptious repast for 7 billion human souls, but it’s so much more than that, isn’t it? Shouldn’t it be?

.

Food is family, food is flavour, food is fuel, food is love, food is passion, food is sharing.

………………………….

Humour keeps us alive. Humour and food. Don’t forget food. You can go a week without laughing.”
― Joss Whedon

.………………………….

.

So, if food is all of these wonderful things, what’s your beef (get it? beef!) Larry?

I’ll get there soon, OK?

I have this zeal for cooking … especially cooking for others.

Cooking is a key part of my socialization, my way of connecting with others. Booze helps too, fo shizzle, but food is the real glue.

Nothing warms my heart more than a group of family or friends at our decorated table with smiles and gustatory enjoyment, relishing a meal I’ve prepared.

Oh sure, I get kidded by my kids about the old Uncle Buck line :

But … in the past few years my Joy of Cooking has begun to slowly melt away when it comes to having guests. Julia Child shrilly mews from the beyond.

Today, every meal prepared for visitors seems to require a “non-consumable” list from each attendee – the list of allergies, sensitivities, likes, dislikes, dietary peccadillo-of-the-week.

If all of our society migrated like Wildebeests in the same direction simultaneously, I could handle that.

But no, each individual is just that… individual. Each plate set at the table comes with a unique dietary request.

What was once a treat for me – cooking and preparing a celebration of flavour – has become an arduous serpentine journey through esoteric cookbooks and websites in search of the acceptable meal-du-jour.

I get it, I do. We all want to feel our best … if food is a helpful adjunct to that end result, I’m happy for that.

Vive la liberté!

All this freedom, while emancipating and gladdening, has meant that at least some of us pay the price of less enjoyment when it comes to the group repast … the giddy moments of pleasure I used to feel in dreaming up culinary delights … now diluted and slipping away in the murky mist.

In today’s world, it kinda appears that food enjoyment comes more from the ubiquitous Instagram snaps of each picturesque meal, rather than the pleasure in tasting.

Change is the constant, right? Adjust and move forward.

I still thrive on making new and old dishes that encompass different ingredient choices that sometimes circumscribe and confine.

This old dog merely has to keep learning new culinary tricks.

That’s my sob story and I’ll just have to eat it.