Kid just loves him some cows (komos) wrote,
Kid just loves him some cows

  • Mood:
  • Music:

Free associations on cabbage

I made stuffed cabbage last night. The original plan was to make the football-sized poulet vert*, but on discovering that I didn’t have any kitchen twine, settled for the much easier Savoy variant, petits choux. I used leftover chicken as the base for the stuffing, though I think it would have worked better with a moister meat like ground pork or beef. Also included was a sizeable hunk of bread and no fewer than three onion variants.

They’re gloriously tasty.

The exercise got me to thinking, though, because my only maternal male cousin was called petit chou by his mom for the longest time. It’s a curious choice of pet names. I mean, really... unless you're really hungry, cabbage of any kind doesn't come off as particularly endearing. I’m wondering if it might be a regional holdover that managed to stay in my family over the ages.

Personally, I don’t recall having an ongoing pet name. My dad occasionally would call me "hot dog," but usually only if I was being a wise-ass. My mom would also toss out "Pierre" from time to time, but I think that had more to do with the fact that she wanted me to be named "Pierre Michel" instead of the far less exotic "Peter Paul." (No Mounds or Almond Joy jokes from you.)

My cousin grew up into the closest living incarnation of a Ken doll I can imagine. He showed up at our last family reunion looking like he had been decked out for a visit to Barbie's Dream House. He walked over the hill and posed with perfectly coifed hair and clothes that were meant to be casual but expensive-looking. He had a pretty young blonde woman (too short to be Barbie, sadly) at his left arm and a freshly-groomed cocker spaniel on a lead at his right. Although there was a general feeling of "My God, WTF is up with that?" that circulated amongst his more earthy and much more dowdy relatives, I found I couldn't cast to many stones...

He’s a successful attorney with a client base that spans the eastern seaboard.

I’m a bureaucrat whose life stalled and then went decidedly south.

I get to thinking like this, and I realize that my life has been resting on the edge of a knife. If I can tread the path, I can turn this whole exercise into something meaningful and fulfilling. Stray, and I could well plummet into the depths waste and despair. Humans do not thrive on misery, but I think a fair number of us have come to expect it.

Better to think only of the food and not let my musings stray so far. Perhaps later, I will give you the secret to my pumpkin pie.

*That would be green chicken for the uninitiated.
**Little cabbages

  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded