The idea popped into my head at the market today. Make a pasta. Make lasagna. Make it cheesy and delicious and meaty too. Why not, why shouldn't I have a filling meal to eat? People say
"that much cheese isn't good for you. Do you know how much butter is in that? Have you seen what that can do to a your arteries?"
"How much butter does the recipe call for? Well, I would substitute olive oil. Any sensible person would."
"There's three cheeses in it? Three? Doesn't that seem like an awful lot of cheese? I'm sure low fat mozzarella would be just as good."
It wouldn't.
When I start thinking about making something for dinner nothing can deter me. The idea is planted in my mind like "Inception" and it grows and mutates into Obsession and I will kill murder maim for the ingredients needed for execution.
People think it's hard to make a lasagna so most never attempt it and I understand their fear, I've been there. When you're afraid of starting anything, a recipe, a cut-and-paste collage, any project, you need to think about the origins of your fear. So you don't like the mess it will make: fuck man first of all, why are you so afraid of getting a little dirty? That's what it is after all, isn't it? You've got vegetables: gotta clean 'em up. Now they're cleaned: gotta cut em up. Now you've got little pieces of onion, carrot and celery on the counter top and vegetable juices that's making your counter sticky and now all of your fears have been confirmed - you've made a mess and you're sticky.
And nobody likes being sticky.
All of those negatives, those fears, are momentary. You are sticky for a fleeting moment, and you may for a moment awkwardly flail like a hoisted infant, but after a warm cleansing, disinfecting wash, all is well again. And what's left after you push through your irrational fears? A whole pan of the best fucking lasagna you've ever made that will last you a week or more, if you freeze it. That's what I did tonight and I've gotta say, it could use more butter.
No comments:
Post a Comment