Organically Shrieking

Back after a cranial dry spell. I really admire how good columnists, fearless leader Tom Karst among them, can spit the good word out on a daily basis, and in English too. The creative nodes of my brain have been parched like the ruins of Pompeii lately.

Been visiting prospective colleges with the younger daughter & celebrating her 18th birthday as well. In our house it seems that every minute during the week and Saturdays has been choreographed beforehand and notated on the calendar next to the fridge. Consequently, between work, show choir, play practice & band rehearsal, it's rare that the three of us eat our evening meal at the same time.

So, that's why Sunday dinner takes on an added importance. We invite whatever relatives are around, turn on the Bears or Cowboys or golf, and go from there. By 7:00, believe me, I want 'em all to go home so I can get my beauty rest. But yes, I tolerate them because in my eyes it's crucial to make that family connection in a non-text message fashion at least once a week.

This past Sunday was a new one, though. Daughter decided that, as a birthday wish, she and the boyfriend, he of the only-organic variety, would shop, prepare, cook & serve an organic chicken cacciatore meal for all of us, including my 100% pure-bred Italian father. With him in the potential mix, my sick but ironic mind saw ethnic vs. 'green' worlds colliding in a massive pileup before '60 Minutes' came on CBS. Morbidly fascinating, I thought. Carry on, I told them with a prescient smirk.

First, they'd need the ingredients, though. Not only would they have to find organic peppers, onions, garlic, mushrooms, tomatoes, chicken, etc., but needed to use organic salt, pepper, olive oil, wine (to cook with--she's only 18!) and herbs. I thought they'd be driving all over hell's half-acre to secure all this stuff, but surprisingly they got it all with relatively little trouble except the major hit to my wallet. According to the boyfriend, everything they were using had to have the 'USDA-Organic' seal of approval on the package. But they got it all, amazingly enough. Ten years ago--heck, five years ago--this wouldn't have been possible, and there still are many non-urban areas of the country where the variety of organic product is extremely limited.

But that was just window dressing in the grand scheme of things. Bottom line was, how did it taste? I have to say they did a great job, and we were all very pleased. I did cook the organic whole wheat angel hair pasta--that's where I draw the line. Most important, the boyfriend had the good sense not to wax poetic at the dinner table about organic produce in general in front of my dad, who ran a brokerage business in the day when the only thing to be counted on about organics was that they would decay like time-lapse photography.

So the boyfriend passed the family test. He can stick around another week, I suppose.

Later,

Jay