sprouts & collatds
Wednesday evening of last week, Linda had a call from Ray's phone, Britany calling to report that Malinda had slumped over at supper with what they feared was the next stroke that we've been dreading since it all began May 2018, five years ago this month. The ambulance was taking her to the ER at Bay Med. The medics did tests, determined at least tentatively that it was not a stroke but a seizure. They kept her until the next evening, Thursday, when she was admitted to Pruitt Health out Jenks Avenue. Her status seems to be sort of undetermined, but we are not in charge; and we are not worried, because she seemed fine immediately, and still does.
Linda and I, and Kristen, have been going every afternoon after Kristen's school, and staying for company while Malinda has supper, at five o'clock. She eats her meals, at least we know she eats her supper, and she always says it's fine.
On the tray is always a ticket listing her menu for that meal. Tuesday supper was braised beef tips, scalloped potatoes, a roll with butter, iced tea, chocolate pudding, and the menu ticket said asparagus, but the kitchen had substituted Brussels sprouts. Malinda absolutely refused to eat them and, since I love Brussels sprouts, I decided to eat one. At least, I love them when Ray prepares them for family get togethers.
But a Brussels sprout is not a Brussels sprout, nomesane? Lying soft, limp, soggy and green in their little dish these were Old Time steamed or boiled like I remember from The Old Time. Nasty, nomesane? Not the fault of the institution's chef or cooks, it was the little green creature itself. What I used to dread seeing in a serving bowl on the supper table, bitter tasting little boiled cabbages promoted with "they're good for you." The vegetable that, when we used to eat at Golden Corral from Time to Time, I always made a point of taking one Brussels sprout, reminding myself, "you are a bad, bad man, this is your punishment," and eating it as my penance. Ray? trained as a chef at GCSC culinary program, when Ray prepares Brussels sprouts they are scrumptious, elegant.
These were bitter, nasty. Someone once used the word filthy, but I don't go beyond nasty. I've flossed, brushed, and swished with Listerine, but their memory lingers.
Which brings me to my point. In the past several years, food items, two that I'm aware of, have been made trendy and cool for those who are into cool and trendy. One is Brussels sprouts prepared as superb as they can be, delicious, not boiled or steamed, but whole or cut in two and baked in the oven with such as mushroom gravy or other thick brown gravy, or butter-seared in a pan stovetop. They are excellent. No wonder everyone loves them now. The fashionable food to eat, showing how sophisticated you are.
The other thing is collards, collard greens. My mother did not like cooking them, because she could not stand the aroma that filled the house; but the aroma of collards cooking turns my mouth to water and my mind to suppertime. I have wonderful memories of meals centered on collard greens, cooked Southern style with bacon fat and salt. When we lived at The Old Place, neighbor Bill Lee used to knock at the back door with a mess of collards he had just cut in his garden: OMG, fresh and tender. If there's collards and cornbread for dinner or supper, lock the door so can't nobody else get in. Cornbread and collard greens for dinner or supper was a Southern staple. Please pass the vinegar, butter and molasses.
Nowadays the collard industry has turned collards into the chic and trendy vegetable to order at your fancy restaurant. Yes, it's a little annoying, because everybody thinks they're being so fashionable, smart, discovering our food, how cool to slum down by ordering collard greens, our Southern comfort food. Whether they really like it, I don't know and I don't care; I just hope we don't run out of collards while the Yankees are showing how uptown they are, eating our food, nomesane? Brings the Chronicles of Narnia to mind,
Puddleglum the Marsh-wiggle serving Jill and Eustace a breakfast of eel stew in thick, brown gravy, but warning them apologetically, "Food for wiggles is poison for humans," and Eustace retorting, "It's delicious."
Yes, it is.
RSF&PTL
T