Tuesday, November 11, 2008

The Visible Man




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One thing that I love is to cook for my woman. I would say cook for my family, but my daughter will not eat with me, much less what I cook. But I find a great and deep pleasure in cooking a good meal for that woman with whom I live.

It's nice, also, that she enjoys what I make for us.



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Tonight it is Island Pork Tenderloin on a bed of baby spinach. Oranges and avocado and raisins and red bell peppers and cabbage and a vinagrette of lime juice, orange juice, toasted curry powder, salt and pepper.

Yum-bo.


Last night was this roasted butternut and acorn squash soup with gruyere croutons.



To. Die. For.


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I think that creating art and writing poems and making very, very good food and drinking too much is a nice foil for pointing guns, hitting people, and putting people in prison for hundreds of years.


And vice-versa.

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That is why I am an asshole. I really like hitting people with metal sticks, or my fists. I actually enjoy pointing guns and yelling. When I am standing over some dead person, it kind of makes my day.


You all can leave now, if you want.


I don't blame you.


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3 Comments:

Blogger LKD said...

We all suffer from the same disease,
brother.

It's called being a human being.

You're not alone in this ocean.

You're waving, brother; not drowning.

10:25 PM  
Blogger Premium T. said...

There are few things more satisfying than cooking (and eating) dinner for (with) my man/husband/best-friend. And I think the two of us (you and me!) could crank out one fan-fucking-tastic meal, to be enjoyed by those we love and honor. (That includes fellow bloggers, of course.)

6:57 PM  
Blogger Premium T. said...

And we'll leave the dead people out of it.

9:01 AM  

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