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![]() Holly Winter Living The Life Of Holly Apr. 24, 2003 “Why are you cooking? You haven’t been feeling well. We should go out.” Darlin-man said. He was standing in my kitchen looking very lost. “I need to cook this fish.” “We could do take out. That way I would feel like I’m helping.” “I have salmon and potatoes and salad. You up for that?” “I can help.” He said, turning on the back burner. “Do you need that burner?” I pulled out the olive oil. “What’s that for?” He asked. “The fish.” I said, pouring the oil on a platter and adding thyme. “What’s that?” He asked, smelling the spice. “I think that I have had this before!” He said, with the same exuberance that Columbus must have used when discovering land where other people already lived. I coated the fish with the oil mixture and put the water on to boil. I pulled out the salad. He tensed. “Did I ever tell you that I don’t eat salad, ever? “No.” I added a hearty portion of salad to my plate, and then made a “child’s” salad on his plate, as I would have done for Ralph’s twelve year old daughter. I picked out some lettuce leaves. “I like green peppers.” He said eagerly. “And I will take a few peas. And you can give me a piece of cucumber. I like carrots! “ “How about a tree?” I asked, putting a piece of broccoli on his plate. He didn’t say anything. I left it there. I pulled an avocado from the fridge. “Do you like avocados?” “Wait. I always get them confused. What is the difference between avocados and artichokes?” I waited for him to sort out the differences. “Oh. Yeah. Artichokes are the ones that have all of those spiky leaves where you waste your time eating nothing after nothing off the leaves. We aren’t eating that one, are we?” “No.” I said, cutting up the avocado and placing two slices on his plate. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it.” “It looks mushy.” “It is.” I put the baby potatoes into the water, and turned the fish so the oil mixture would coat both sides. I turned the broiler on. “What are you doing?” “Getting the oven ready. We are going to cook the fish fast.” “Why.” “So we don’t have to spend all night in the kitchen.” “Good idea.” He said, kissing me. Since you haven’t been feeling well… There must be something else we should be doing.” We set the table together and lit the candles. When the potatoes were almost done I put the fish under the broiler. “How long will it take?” “Ten minutes, tops.” I pulled out the salad dressings. I know. But I wasn’t going to make my own tonight. Hey. I wasn’t feeling well. That’s what bottled dressings are for, right? We leaned against my couch and watched the fish cook. I know. Big mistake. Remember the old saying that a watched pot never boils? Well. Ten minutes went by. Sure. The fish was under the broiler. That means that it was just inches from the full heat of the oven. It doesn’t get any hotter than that. Well. After ten minutes, the fish was hot, but still raw. “Needs more time.” I said, more than a bit confused. The potatoes weren’t done either. We leaned against the couch some more. I probably shouldn’t have cooked tonight. I was tired. I was figuring that I had enough energy for a quick meal. This was going to take more energy than I had. I waited a few minutes and checked the fish again. “I don’t get it.” I said, scraping at the nearly raw meat. “The oven is hot enough to singe the hairs on my arm. But. The fish is hardly cooking.” I knew that I could stick it in the microwave, but I hate rubbery fish. Darlin-man leaned down, surveying the problem with me. “How will you know when it’s done?” “This raw flesh in the middle will be cooked.” “Oh. Well. I think that it needs a bit more time.” He said, pretty sure of himself. We stuck it back in the oven. The potatoes were still little hard rocks. Yeah. I know. It took the fish over a half hour to broil. I think this might make a world record for fish broiling. I don’t know. I guess this fits in somehow with the joys of renting. I was sure that the fish would be dried out and crusty, but it wasn’t. It was just right. Yeah. I know. If the potatoes and salad were less than good, we would all have something to worry about. Darlin-man was pretty excited about the avocado. “Hey. I really like it. It is mushy, but good.” “Have you ever had guacamole?” “What’s that?” “You get it in Mexican restaurants.” “I’m not sure. But I guess that I like avocados. Where do you buy them?” He asked. “Produce isle.” “Well. Maybe it would be best if you just have them for me when I come here for dinner.” “Yeah. I understand.” I said. “It is kind of like me not wanting to buy bacon.” “Exactly.” He said, eating a whole slice of avocado in one bite. “You supply the avocados, I supply the bacon.” “You know. That means that you are getting more nutrition at my house.” I said. “Yeah. But. You have to admit. Which one tastes better?” He asked, with a little too much avocado in his mouth. About the author: Holly Winter is a teacher and a writer and a flight attendant living in Denver, Colorado, USA. She can be reached at her website or email: Holly@livingthelifeofholly.com ------------ Comment on this column in the forum. ------------ |
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