My sous chef is gone. She has high-tailed it to the midwest on a business trip. I would tell you the name of the city, buuuuut I'm pretty sure the title of the blog says it all. Ok, for those of you who have yet to look at the title, she is in St. Louis. I, in turn, am left home...alone. I can do a lot of damage at home...alone. To be quite honest, I am not fit to run a household...alone. With Anna here, I become, as if by magic, more tidy. It's like, I want the place to look good so that we can enjoy each others company. When I have no company, I have already left a dirty bowl on the coffee table. One sec, I gotta go take that to the dishwasher...
K, I'm back. I really did go take it. I felt bad for those of you who were worried about my sanitary well being. So, in addition to the list of things I can't do alone, I would like to add one more...let me paint for you, if I may, a mental picture.
Imagine, you are at home in a very clean, one-bedroom apartment waiting for your sous-chef to arrive home from work. You come up with a dinner plan for the evening and start to execute it before she gets home. When she does get home, she realizes how much you are struggling in the kitchen without her mighty sous-chefness, and she cheerfully helps you create the artwork you will both enjoy for dinner. After dinner is prepared, she goes and lights the woodwick candle, and you prepare the glasses which will be filled with the nectar of the Gods, (i.e. Diet Dr. Pepper). Then, you both sit down, bless, and partake in what you both helped to create.
I will let you think of the meal that was prepared so that you can have an optimal mental picture.
After a delightful dinner, you clean up together to restore the very clean one-bedroom apartment to its previous glory. As the last dish is being put into the dishwasher, you...almost out of intuition to what the other is thinking suggest, "Hey, you wanna go to Rita's?" You hear, before the last word has even, escaped your lips, an emphatic, "YES! I'll get the keys!"
You walk together, out of your very clean one-bedroom apartment to the outside of your complex, where you see shining, like a beacon of hope, a neon sign -- "OPEN". You enter the establishment with your mouth watering, already knowing what it is you want. The girls behind the counter smile at you, recognizing your faces which frequent the establishment, and say, "welcome to Rita's." You stroll up to the counter and order a gelati with vanilla custard and (insert favorite italian ice flavor here). Your sous chef orders the same thing every time, a cotton candy italian ice. You pay, using one of the coupons you have amassed over the many times you have been here, and step out the door which reads, "Have an ice day!"
You step out, into the cool southern summer air that is threatening to turn into Fall, and as you stroll back to your very clean one-bedroom apartment, you take the first bite. You stop to taste the gentle combination of cool ice and creamy custard, and you truly believe, if only for a moment, that all is right in the world.
Exit mental picture
That was nice huh? Well that is what we do on a fairly regular basis. In fact, I would be doing that tonight if my sous chef wasn't in St. Louis, but she has forbidden me to do so because it is our tradition that we do together. I guess I will just have to lounge in my not-so-clean one bedroom apartment eating a hot pocket and doing homework. I'm bitter.
fairwell till next time
