Relentless Inquiry

I've cooked a real dinner for Mike and I, rather than eating out or foraging in the kitchen, for two nights in a row.

Last night, frozen chicken, water chestnuts, bamboo shoots, and fresh broccoli in a thai-inspired coconut/mango sauce from Trader Joe's. Tonight, fresh mushrooms, canned chickpeas, and corn/bean/carrot frozen veggie mix simmered in an Indian korma sauce, also from TJ's. Both with/over brown rice.

I cooked last night's dinner in the big Visions pyrex pot, but was annoyed that it scorched slightly on the bottom. Back when I thought I would someday kasher my kitchen, I gave away my Circulon cookware set to my best friends, since it had plastic handles and lid knobs. I've missed it ever since (and them, over the years, but that's another story). After verifying that it was, in fact, a very good price (via Froogle), I picked up the 11-piece Circulon Professional II set at Costco tonight. They've improved the stuff, if that's possible, with silicone heatproof pot & lid handles up to 400 degrees F, and clear glass lids. The deep skillet was a complete joy to cook in, browning mushrooms and olive oil and whole yellow mustard seed with basil in a beautiful mix.

Circulon again, and on a GAS stove– a *good* GAS rangetop, in fact, with 5 burners of different types ranging from 'kick-ass wok' to 'tiny simmer pot'. Yay. Much yay. If I ever get my garden in, y'all have to come over and eat stuff, 'cause I love to cook when I have good equipment with which to do it!

Dishwasher (whose name is *not* Mike) is going. Kitchen is clean. LSF queue is ok.

Tomorrow rushing toward us, as all tomorrows do, foaming up from the river that is time. I must go lay upon the banks and dip a clear handful of eternity, just an evening's worth. Perhaps my lips will touch that cool cataract and I will wake, relieved, knowing all this noise and confusion to be but a minnow's dream of the moon on the water. I can see the brown leaves, the pebbles, the deep waving green of clean moss on good tan rocks, rounded and worn nubbly by rushing bubbles. A beautiful world, at least until the first small kingfisher swoops along. Perhaps it might be better to dream of minnows than to be one, but who knows what kingfishers are waiting on a branch for me? Good night!