Just what does this tub full of fired shrimp have to do with this article? Absolutely nothing at all. It is just that every now and then I like to look at foods my wife will not let me eat anymore. Now for the real article.
It all started a few years ago when I wanted to jazz up our oatmeal a little. I diced up an apple and opened a small box of raisins. I then added both to the skillet I had heating up on the stove. I had already melted some butter and dark brown sugar in the skillet. After a few minutes or about the time that the apple became soft on the outside but still crunchy on the inside I sprinkled in a palm full of chopped walnuts and continued cooking only until the walnuts were warm. All of this, what ever you want to call it, I poured into our oatmeal. It was not until I was half way through my bowl of oatmeal that I thought that this would have tasted better if I had added in a sprinkle of cinnamon or nutmeg. Shame on me, I am really good at these types of afterthoughts because I do not write anything down or follow a recipe. What I didn’t say out loud was that I would have to remember not to forget the spice the next time.
The next time turned out to be a few weeks later when my wife suggested we have English muffins with some jam or fresh fruit for breakfast. While I was thawing our muffins, because I always freeze my bread products to keep them fresh longer, I remembered my oatmeal concoction. I could use that on our muffins instead of jam. That way my wife could have both, jam and fresh fruit. Would you believe I forgot the cinnamon and/or nutmeg again? Perhaps there is something to this write it down and do it the same way next time thing. Again I kept my mouth shut and didn’t say a word. That was partly because I had my mouth full of muffin topped with my apple concoction. I’ll have to remember not to forget next time.
This next time was a lunch time thing. I asked my wife that same stupid question I always ask her. “What do you want for lunch?” I say stupid question because I know the answer. Why ask a question when you know the answer before you ask it unless you are stupid or a lawyer. Her standard answer to my standard question is always, “Salad”. Doesn’t she know that salad can mean so many different things? There is fruit salad, meat salad, fish salad just to name a few. If she just wants a dinner type salad of onions and tomatoes on lettuce she has got to know that that salad is a side dish. What does she want as the main course? However no amount of questioning, no amount of begging, pleading, or explaining has ever done any good. All I ever get when I ask the question is her one word answer, SALAD.
It is not that I object to salads. It is just that when I think of a meal I think of something that is warm, and most salads are served cold. When I think about having cold cereal for breakfast, a cold fruit salad for lunch, and a cold fish or meat salad served on toast or crackers for dinner I do not get all warm and fuzzy. I want a good hot meal every now and than. But my very shapely, good looking, slim and trim wife would eat salads three times a day if I would let her. I need something hot. After all isn’t that part of the reason I married her in the first place. Then it hit me. I knew the answer to my always asked question. I could put hot over cold.
I went back to my apple concoction. This time I added in cubed leftover pork chop instead of the walnuts. I then poured that hot and juicy mixture over cold spring mix salad. She gets her salad and I get my hot meal. Pretty cool, huh? I was so proud of myself until I remembered that I forgot the nutmeg and cinnamon yet again. It is not just nutmeg and cinnamon that I forget. Quite frequently during the course of a meal I remember that I was going to add in this or that but forgot to do it. Of course anyone who eats my meals doesn’t know I have forgotten what ever it was I forgot because all my meals taste differently every time I make them. So how are they to know that I forgot the cumin in my sautéed shrimp? All they can taste is the Old Bay Seasoning because the cumin was only met to be a hint of flavor in the background. Only I know it was not there.
Now to the real point of this article; I never tell what I forget to add. If I was to tell what I forget to add into a dish, each time I remembered that I forgot it, then those at my dinner table would think I was a forgetful cook and therefore a bad cook. By opening my mouth only to put in a bite of food I remain a good cook in my guests’ eyes. Forget about my wife, she knows better. I don’t care how hot she is, I gave up trying to fool her a long time ago. However to the rest of you out there who have enjoyed one of my meals all I have to say to you is; “You will never know what you could have remembered if I had not forgotten to add in that ingredient that would have made the meal more memorable instead of simply unforgettable.”
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