It’s 6am in the morning, the snow is lightly falling, and I’ve convinced myself that warm New England clam chowder at this hour is perfect. With cream, butter, protein, and potatoes…it contains many typical breakfast ingredients. Fresh from the local sea-cliff Lobster Pound…it’s not as though I’m heating a can of Snow’s. It’s cold out there and I need something warm before heading to Sullivan Tire and Auto for an oil change that will become a main belt, two filters, and 257 dollars later. Worth every penny.
I took a long nap today. It’s funny…at age 45, when you take a nap and share that fact with others of similar age or older, they remark on how wonderful and luxurious it is to take a nap. So good for you! Still it means if you’re in your 20’s, and take a long nap, you’re a lazy shit who’s sleeping your life away.
Beautiful pastrami catches my eye and plucks at my heart strings. I spotted it from across the aisle in a local store, yummy lean strips ladled into a big bowl, eyeballing me…I couldn’t resist. I wasn’t even looking for it. And I don’t know what it is about good salami but it will seduce me just the same…thin velvety slices... I’m uncontrollably attracted to quality Italian cold cuts. And thoughts of good olive oil, vinegar, cheese, olives, a few spicy fried peppers or jalapeños - not those things called “hots” in New England which are just “seeds with a little chili paste”. I don’t widely admit my love for good bologna, much like I don’t widely admit my love for “early” Barry Manilow. And I dispute that a (good) slice of bologna is just a hammered-out hot dog. If I find myself in a sub-sandwich shop faced with several choices, it won’t matter what kind of unique concoction they offer, because I’m compelled by a force beyond my control to order the Italian mixed sub. I can read, and even contemplate, “chicken cordon bleu sub” but I stand powerless and what comes out of my mouth, every time, is the Italian mixed sub.
Mustards…why am I obsessed with them? Is it the fun-shaped jars or shiny labels – or just the excitement that each one will provide a newly discovered mustard-y punch or tang? I know this obsession is inherited from my mother – I too have a section on the top shelf of my fridge that must contain at least four different mustards at any given time. Spicy-brown, sweet, hot, and just yesterday, there it was…the most amazing classic yellow mustard. Raye’s Mustard, all natural, Down East Schooner (gotta love that line – there for no other reason than it sounds cool and looks good on the nautical label) – the jar is hexagonal…it’s ingenious, your hands just want to grab it. A sub-line reads, “A Classic American Yellow Mustard”. But what really makes me laugh is the first ingredient: Deep Well Water.
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