Hitting the Spot

You probably know what it’s like to be hungry and open the refrigerator and see nothing that will do it for you.  You scan through the local restaurants in your head, reviewing their menus and trying to decide if any of that is what you’re craving.  You call your sister, or your mother, or your coworker, to ask “What are you cooking?”  You may even flip to the Food network to see what they have on the stove. 
This evening was the total opposite of that.  I knew that I wanted something with a lot of flavor, and a heavy, full flavor at that.  I came in from picking up a prescription and went straight to the freezer.  I removed some boneless, skiness breasts and set them defrosting in the microwave.  I peeled some garlic cloves, about six or eight, and put them into enough olive oil to cover the bottom of the skillet (maybe 1/3 cup).  This was my most full-bodied olive oil, the Olio Nuovo from Pasolivo.  It has a lovely, deep, green flavor and color.  I left them sauteeing on low while I prepared a plate of flour, flax seed meal and River Road Voodoo Seasoning* to dredge my breasts in.  When they were well-coated, I put them in the pan to saute.  I left them on a medium-low setting (my stove has 10 settings on the large eyes, I used number 3).  I only turned them once, and removed them when the juices ran clear.  Somewhere in there I put some leftover edamame in the microwave to heat up.
My sauteed, almost-fried chicken and edamame hit the spot.  That’s what my Mama says about anything from a great slice of homemade cake to a fizzy gulp of Coca-Cola.  She has always enjoyed food with gusto, and attacked cooking with the same gusto.  When I was a child we were moving from one Army base to another, meeting people from everywhere in the world and sometimes sharing their food.  Mama prided herself on cooking her own versions of Italian, Mexican, Asian, and German food, along with the deep South fare she was raised on.
Tut-tut commented that her mom had horribly deforming rheumatoid arthritis.  My mother has a similar deforming arthritis in her hands.  It’s so sad for them to lose the ability to do all the handwork they enjoyed.  Mama doesn’t cook, or sew, or garden, or comb her great-grandchildren’s hair.  As an aside, my hands show signs of the same rheumatoid changes, but I’ll probably avoid much deformity with the multiple anti-inflammatory therapies I’m getting.  What a difference a generation makes. 
Something else that is hitting the spot right now is Wicked, Gregory Maguire’s novel of The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West.  I’m just at the beginning of the part II.  What a wonderful, engrossing, adult fairy tale, full of anthropology and politics and religion.  I can feel myself becoming hooked.  Can’t believe I let it languish for more than 10 years before I found it.  At the same time, I’ve begun eat pray love and the only spot it’s hitting is that place that makes my head hurt.  I just cannot get into the empathy position for this woman.  Maybe later. 
Just when we thought it was safe to discuss the election, and felt like everything was pretty much out in the open, I read this:  Hillary’s Prayer: Hillary Clinton’s Religion and Politics, and sort of freaked out.  I’ve gotta go back to the Chattanooga Obama crew’s website and see if I can make some calls or paint some signs or something. 
*If you don’t have a friend in NOLA to send you boxes of great seasonings, don’t panic.  I googled it just now and several places sell it on the internet. 
Anyway, tonight is just for rambling and I think I’ve accomplished that.
Peace. 
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3 Responses

  1. I’ll have to check out the Voodoo Seasonings. Blue Orleans is our current favorite restaurant in town, and we always manage to get andouille smuggled in.

  2. I agree about eat, pray, love: too much belly-aching about what most would envy. Couldn’t read it; not looking forward to the movie version (Julia Roberts . . . )

  3. Wow, see my reaction to Hillary was just the opposite when I first learned of that. “Cool,” I thought, except, I wonder about her sincerity.

    My gut tells me Hillary is just the consummate collector of people, willing to touch all bases in order to further her career. But it would be nice if she had a sincere interest in the Bible and prayer. Mother Jones sort of makes it into a Christian Illuminati.

    As for Wicked, didn’t they just turn that into a play last year or so? And a soundtrack as well? And a sequel called “Son of a Witch”? (a few years back I think).

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