I own more than a few cookbooks. I even maintain a small ‘vintage’ collection whose tomes often include amusing “household management” tips in the back. What is the point of this, you ask? Well, if the internet goes down, at least I will still know how best to whiten The General’s spats, while I’m jugging a few hares in the larder …
Anyway, the point is, despite all the recipes online (and a set of binders that house personal recipes!) I still struggle with how to cook with less meat. Although I really love veggies – not a huge carnivore at all – the main motivation is to do The Right Thing for our burning planet and now, frankly, my budget. But over and over by Wednesday I grow bored with tomato based dinners, anything approaching Tex-Mex or soaking cashews overnight. (I have tried, I am sorry – as a texture person I simply cannot embrace the vegan staple of “cashew cream.”) There is something about this putty-hued sludge that just makes me gag.

Nothing is more boring than talking about the weather: what it’s going to do, what it might do, what “they” said it was supposed to do and then never did. All of this prattling makes me crazy and doesn’t even count as small talk in my book. That said, The General takes a keen interest in all-things-weather and yet, strangely is rarely satisfied. He is, in fact, A Goldilocks for All Seasons. There are approximately three days during the year when he will admit to the weather being “not too bad” and suitable for whatever it is he needs to do.
I recently pointed out that although he complained hourly last winter about blowing snow, frigid temperatures (or, as the weather-nerds will have it, The Polar Vortex) as soon as the spring sun began to warm the earth and I tried to lure him outside to a sheltered, sunny nook on the deck, he shook his head rapidly, shocked, saying it was far too wet and besides, “they” had said it was going to turn cold again that night. In summer, of course, it’s usually too hot, dangerous even, to be in the garden for too long and where was that sunscreen/hat/protective eye wear anyway etc.

I remember telling both of my sons that while large breasts were a very nice attribute in a girlfriend, the more pressing question should be, as the relationship began to deepen: “Would this person make you soup when you are sick?”