BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Well, to some extent they go hand in hand. Love, lust, and all points in between. You start out in lust and as you get to know one another the lust becomes love, and if you are lucky, they blend together to become this Love/Lust amalgam that carries on throughout your relationship and/or marriage.

But, before you get all excited or start calling me Doctor Phil, I should point out that I’m actually here to talk to you about dominos again. And, no, still not the pizza.

You see, I’ve been married to EK now for Twen-koff-koff yea-koff…Okay…for real, 21+ years, and we “co-habitated” for a year prior to that. So, we’ve been ’round the block in the ol’ Radio Flyer a couple of times – always with me pulling as she beats me with a buggy whip and screams “faster, faster…watch out for that crack in the sidewalk…slow down…careful around that turn…faster, faster!” But, as usual, that’s one of those “other” blogs (actually, they probably wouldn’t even let me post it here…but I digress…)

My point being, I’m no stranger to the relationship game, marriage game, whatever… Now, let’s be clear. I am in no way claiming to have all the answers. Hell, I don’t have ANY of the answers. I just pull the wagon and do what I’m told. I’m merely pointing out that I do have at least a passing familiarity with interpersonal relationships between two folks who make up a couple.

Since the EK and I have been together for better than two decades, just like any other couple we have settled into some behavioral patterns. This is not to say that love and lust are gone. The love is there stronger than it was in the beginning, and growing daily. Lust…well…can’t really get into that here (LOL)… But, like I said, as with any couple, patterns will emerge. Ways of interacting. It’s just all part of life. Therefore, a half hour or so ago when I nonchalantly and jokingly said to my wife, “what are you making for dinner tonight?” her response came as no surprise, and the dominos began to teeter…

I suppose you might need a bit of background first…You see, my wife almost never makes dinner. In fact, whenever I go on tour for a week or two at a time, I spend the week prior to my departure working in the kitchen – cooking, packaging, and freezing meals in reusable “freezer to microwave” containers so that I know she and my daughter will eat something other than crackers and yogurt. It’s not that she’s lazy. She’s about as far from lazy as you can get… Hell, I wish I had her energy… It is just that she really dislikes cooking. With a passion it seems. Me, on the other hand, having grown up in a family with diners and restaurants, I absolutely love to cook. So, this makes at least part of the division of labor in our home a no brainer. Put simply, the kitchen is my domain.

But, like I said at the outset, there are dominos involved here, and again, I’m not talking about pizza…even though we are on the subject of food.

To inspect this particular dot-covered game piece we have to turn back the clock to a time EARLY in our marriage. Back when, even though we had dated for some time, then cohabitated for an entire year, and then even been legally married in the eyes of the law for a couple more years, we were still in that state of semi-honeymoon. Not the face-sucking-sex-in-every-room-with-reckless-abandon phase, mind you. Just the hyperactive love-lust combination where you want to impress your partner because you love them so much – and again, I want to be clear on this impressing thing – I’m not talking about dressing up in a negligee and posing next to the bedroom door while batting eyelashes (come to think of it, that’s a pretty good domino too, but I probably wouldn’t fit in that negligee anymore…just kidding… I mean just kidding about the negilgee, not the fitting into it part… you know what I mean…dammit, I’ve never owned a negligee, so just stop it!)

Back to the story… sheesh…ya’ bunch of weirdos…

So, in this particular instance we are talking about dinner. You see, way back when, during the days of hyperlovelustwhatever, the evil redhead decided to make dinner. (They “make” dinner here in the north, as opposed to fixing dinner, like it’s supposed to be done) Now, not being a big fan of the kitchen she wasn’t about to get herself into a major project (I’d like to take a moment to point out that it isn’t that she can’t cook, because she can. It’s simply that she hates cooking.) But still, she intended to “make” dinner. And, so she did. Cheesy tuna and noodles Tuna Helper^TM. Now, before you think I am about to complain, guess again. I happen to like tuna casserole, and mac n’ cheese, and yes, cheesy tuna and noodles. It was all good.

So, my lovely bride served up a big, steaming dish of Tuna Helper^TM, happy with herself and confident in the fact that she had done something nice for me that I would appreciate. And, I did. Harboring the same hyperlovelustwhatever as she, I sat at the table and shoveled in the Tuna Helper^TM while smiling and telling her how wonderful it was, as well as how much I appreciated her fixing dinner. In fact, I was so overwhelmed with hyperlovelustwhatever that I didn’t even hint at the fact that there was something terribly, and fundamentally wrong with the meal. Not something that would make you ill, mind you, but something fundamentally wrong, nonetheless, given what it was supposed to be. The meal went on, the dishes were washed, and well, I can’t really remember what else happened that night, but I suspect that since we were working on remodeling the house at the time we were probably both exhaused and just went to bed then straight to sleep – none of the “not so blog safe” material to worry about this time.

So, everything was good. I had done my duty and nothing need ever be said about the problem with the meal. The EK was happy, I was happy, and even the cats were as happy as cats can be.

The next day, however, it became apparent that my plan to protect the evil redhead from personal embarrassment had gone terribly awry. At this point I cannot remember exactly what I was doing at the moment of realization. I do, however, have vivid recollection of EK walking into the room with an unopened can of tuna in her hand, which she had found sitting on the kitchen counter right where she had left it the night before. With a look of realization flooding her face, she stared at me and stated, as much as asked, complete with a matter-of-fact incredulity, “I forgot to put the tuna in the Tuna Helper last night, didn’t I?”

I could not tell a lie, but I also didn’t want to add insult to injury. I simply replied, “No worries. It was really good macaroni and cheese.”

The domino in this case? Well, it didn’t have to knock much over. You see, this afternoon when I jokingly asked my wife what she would be “making” for dinner, without missing a beat she replied, “Hamburger Helper without the hamburger.”

We’re older now, and while we still have that hyperlovelustwhatever thing going on, I’ve learned I don’t really have to suffer (unless I want to, that is, but again, different blog…)

I think I’ll just go ahead and “make” dinner tonight.

More to come…

Murv

…but then, we already knew that, I suppose.

I reached this conclusion just moments ago… Well, bearing the statement above in mind I suppose I was merely REMINDED of the conclusion moments ago. You see, she made a comment that could only be uttered by an alien. That comment, I will relate to you below:

“No thanks, I’ve never been really big on cheese balls.”

Okay, all you filthy minded little monkeys need to jump on the ladder and climb right on up out of the gutter. We were NOT in the bedroom when she said this, we were in the kitchen. We were both fully clothed, and no propositions had been made other than I had offered her some leftovers from the Yule party this past weekend. We were NOT talking about anyone’s anatomy… We were talking about food.

Cheese balls have been around forever… They are a staple of all known party foods. In fact, some of today’s party foods have been spawned by the omnipresent and traditional cheese ball… But, that’s a totally different blog…

If you are invited to a party, even at the last minute, and need to bring something, you can always find a cheese ball at the store. Or at the very least, with almost no skill whatsoever, you can toss one together in nothing flat. I mean, even if you don’t have time to spend on an elaborate cheese ball (softening and blending the cheeses, adding spices and herbs, and all that jazz), a simple block of cream cheese, a couple of bags of shredded milk curd of your favorite flavor, a packet of dry veggie soup mix and voila! Cheese ball. Not only a respectable cheese ball, but to borrow a phrase from Alton Brown and twist it to my own convoluted use – damn good eats. Now, if you happen to have an extra thirty seconds you can even dress it up a bit. Wrap it in some Buddig ™ ham, or roll it in some crushed nuts. Voila! Now you have a semi-fancy cheese ball…really damn good eats.

Now, if you are blessed with both time and talent, go for the superbly fancy cheese ball (I will refrain from giving you a recipe here because that’s not really what this blog is about) and hey, you get orgasmically good eats.

So… Fancy, semi-fancy, or just plain, the cheese ball is easily had. And, if you don’t want to make it, you can probably get one at the local supermarket at almost any time of the year. But, at this time of the year, if you can’t find one, you aren’t looking. There is, to say the least, a veritable glut of the softened, rolled, curd confection in supermarkets during the holidays. After all, it’s the party season, plus all you need to do is consider the source – way back when, cheese, grain, and root veggies were pretty much what you had to live on when Winter solstice rolled around. They were food items that would keep, and could be stored away for the cold months when you didn’t have fresh stuff growing in the field… But, again, that is another blog…

Now, let us look at the versatility of our beloved cheese ball.

1) You can always take them to parties and they are an instant crowd pleaser – except where aliens are concerned, of which we have established my wife is one. Being an evil redheaded alien, I suspect she is probably their leader…

2) Leftover cheese ball makes a great snack on the leftover crackers the day after the party when you are too hung over to even think about cooking, and all you want to do is toss something down to quell the hunger. HINT: At this point, in order to keep from messing up the house any more than it already is, the leftover cheese ball on cracker should be consumed over the sink.

3) Leftover cheese ball works well as a sandwich spread to liven up that bologna or pressed ham/pickle loaf lunch meat you are taking to work with you between two slices of leftover bread from the party.

4) If folks show up unexpectedly, leftover cheese ball and crackers makes for a quick impromptu party snack. HINT: 10 seconds in the microwave and you can roll it back into a ball so it looks like new and they think you prepared it just for them alone. Simply pop it back in the fridge for a few minutes before serving.

5) Leftover cheese ball will last almost indefinitely. If you get a bit tired of it after the party, just put it in a Ziploc™ or Tupperware™ container, and stick it in the fridge. A few months later when you are looking for a midnight snack, dig it out and slap it on some Triscuits™ or Saltines™. HINT: If it is fuzzy, simply scrape off the moldy portion, discard it, and enjoy what is left. If the mold is blue, then don’t discard – it simply means you’ve got yourself a bleu cheese ball. (This is NOT to be confused with Blue Balls… As I said, climb on up out of the gutter…)

6) If you have run out of room in the fridge, then suck all the air out of the Ziploc™ (they have special ones with little vacuum pumps for that now to make it even easier) and toss it in the freezer. It will survive in there as long as, if not longer than, fruitcake.

7) If it is a port wine cheese ball, and you are out of booze, no worries. The wine is already in the cheese.

7A) If you are going to a wine and cheese party, by taking a port wine cheese ball you have covered all your bases, effectively killing both of the proverbial birds with a single cheese ball.

8) Leftover cheese ball – and even leftover cheese balls, as in many of them – along with a bit of milk and chicken or vegetable stock can be quickly and easily turned into cheese soup for a lovely first course.

9) If you are feeling really ambitious and are looking to impress folks, leftover cheese ball and a shot of brandy will render you a perfectly respectable fondue.

And, lastly…

10) A frozen cheese ball in a tube sock makes a great impromptu weapon if you have a household intruder. Then, merely pop it in the microwave for a few seconds, and you have a lovely snack to serve the cops who respond to the 911 call.

These are but 10 of the possibilities for the ever versatile cheese ball. I could go on and on, but the reality is, your own imagination is the only limiting factor. Cheese balls are one of the single greatest inventions of mankind, and most assuredly one of the most perfect foodstuffs…

So, anyone who doesn’t like them must be an alien, just like my wife…

More to come…

Murv