Yesterday was Friday. As a Penance, we refrain from eating meat. Penance involves an act which seeks to turn our thoughts and lives toward God. It is a challenge, but not so much for finding meatless alternatives. The challenge lies in choosing to not eat meat as a Penance in the first place. Vatican II said you could eat meat, right? Yes, it did, but one is obligated to choose another Penance as a substitute. Penance, to most people, Catholic or not, is a foreign concept. If one cynically reduces religious observance and the devout life into some sort of cosmic and existential board game , replete with rewards and penalties, it is merely an absurd gesture among many absurd gestures. I see it as something more; leave it at that for now.
Having set the context, the admonition from Mrs CorC? yesterday morning was “Don’t go out and spend money for food I might not want to eat when I get home from work.” Good point. What to fix then? I do a quick check of items on hand,and decide on a mushroom and cheddar quiche with fried apples on the side. All that’s missing are mushrooms.
After a noon AA meeting and a meandering drive, debating whether to go to the library or not, I head to the store, then home. I see a package of fresh mushrooms for $1.99. Mustering all the power of self-control a recovering alcoholic can possess, I pay for them, ignoring all else, especially the Thrift Bakery items. Total for trip is $2.04, with tax.
Upon arriving home, I get out the butter, lard and flour and prepare a pate’ brissee, from The Joy of Cooking. Making the dough went quite well and I was recollecting a wonderful exchange with another blogger I had about this recipe a few months ago. It needs to rest in the fridge for at least two hours, so I take this time to go for a four mile power walk around the neighborhood.
The walk went well. The shower felt great. I await Mrs CorC?’s return and finishing the meal prep. I read from Sometimes She Lets Me, (Cleis Press, Tristan Taormino, Editor) a collection of lesbian erotica. Lesbian erotic writing is plain old good writing and not an insult to the intelligence, unlike much other erotic writing. Upon arrival, she is tired and not completely unplugged from the work day. I leave her to chill and wait for her word to start supper.
Assembling the quiche was easy and fun. I made another major dent in the half gallon of milk I bought the other day, used up the shredded cheddar opened a couple of weeks ago, and got to use the white pepper I deemed an extravagance when I bought it. The fried apples kind of morphed from rings to apple sauce. I think the Cortland apples I used don’t cook well for that purpose, but they tasted great. Who cares, right?
My old friend back pain was there through most of yesterday. But Life is good.