I gotta get back to work. I've cooled my heels for the past few days but now enough is enough. This weekend I'll be distributing the mag, applying for grants and out of state shows, and hopefully popping over to my studio for a bit... hopefully. This whole relaxing thing is dangerous and the longer I do it the less I want to get back to work.
In my relaxed state I've been reading Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant and it's proving to be pretty fab. I just finished reading an essay about one woman's obsession with asparagus which seemed like it ran a little long but overall I am enjoying this book immensely. It is also making me think about what I typically cook when I'm home alone and to wonder more intently - considering this is something I think about all the time already - about what my friends and colleagues eat when they are alone.
I have one professor at Hornet tech who can be seen walking around with a bran muffin or an apple at all times of the day and evening. Another professor of mine brings these funny little textbook sandwiches to lunch and by that I mean they look like what is usually picture in children's books and clip art as a sandwich. Two pieces of sliced bread with a round piece of bologna colored luncheon meat, a square piece of orange cheese, and a thin slightly ruffly piece of green lettuce poking around the edges.
This book also made me think about my acclimation to OMF's eating habits in the first couple months we were together. One night after a weekend of non-stop BBQ's and parties we got home both feeling a little hungry and in agreement that a nibble at home would be nice. I'm thinking sandwich, nachos, cheese and crackers typical snack fare. OMF on the other hand had something very specific in mind... a can of corn period. Just a can of corn, straight outta the can nothing else, just corn. I stared at him in disbelief. He suggested that I too could grab a can and a fork and I thought, but I don't really want a whole can of corn for dinner.
There was another time the night before one of our first dates that he cut and rinsed the mold off of some bologna and made a sandwich for dinner. The following night's date was nearly aborted as a result due to his frequent need to use the pot. The best part was that Skipper watched him cleanse his meat the previous night and tried to warn him against it but he would not be deterred.
I find all of this fascinating. As I continue to read this book I'm sure I will come up with more anecdotes to share. If anyone else has anything interesting they eat in private I'm all ears.