Sometimes it’s all about food

     

Jacob's going away dinner
Wonder what we'll get when he goes to college.

It seemed that way this weekend. Last night we had a big “celebration” dinner for Jacob’s last night at home before two weeks at Sky Ranch in Colorado. He’s been going to that camp since he was seven or so every summer—for years he went to the main camp near Van in East Texas, but last year and this year he goes to a remote site near Colorado Springs. Yep, he’ll be on a bus all night tonight. He loves it and was excited to go. So Christian cooked a really wonderful dinner—excellent filets and oven roasted potatoes, and Jordan fixed a blue cheese salad. And sneaky me had the last piece of chocolate mousse cake, from Jacob’s birthday, in my fridge (no, I wasn’t hogging—they have some inside, but I don’t think they are eating it).

Friday night I fixed myself a bowl—hummus, cucumber, thinly sliced radish, and smoked salmon, seasoned by Everything But the Bagel. It was things I thought I would like but no one else would—a strange combination. I decided I liked all of it except the Everything But the Bagel (I’m not a fan of that seasoning anyway), and I wasn’t sure that the smoked salmon didn’t get lost. But my liking for hummus was reawakened and now I’m sorry I forot to order more with this week’s list.

Tonight Jean came for supper, and we had the rest of the package of smoked salmon, with rice crackers, for an appetizer. Then I fixed the imitation crab salad that I wrote about a few days ago—and speaking of seasonings, I think what distinguishes that salad is the Old Bay seasoning. So good! And I cooked my first Bok Choy—braised it in garlicky olive oil and then finished with lemon. Jean, who is more knowledgeable about that vegetable than I am, said it was perfectly cooked.

But Bok Choy is in a class of foods that a gastroenterologist told me I should avoid this week. I thought the stomach troubles were due to a return of my lactose intolerance, but he said dairy is only the main offender, and I should be wary of fruit (I really don’t eat much except bananas and occasional blueberries) and of cruciferous vegetables such as broccoli, spinach, kale, etc. We eat a lot of broccoli because Jacob likes it, and I adore spinach, so those are hard for me. Kale I can easily do without. It occurs to me that I have eaten bananas without the Lactaid. Oops.

But the one thing I heard from the doctor is something I am really weary of hearing. It’s the phrase, “As we age ….” And you can imagine what follows. The gastroenterologist explained to me that as we age, we are more like to exhaust our supply of lact-whatever or other enzymes that help us digest foods. So that’s probably what has happened to me.

Not too long ago an ophthalmologist said to me, “As we age . . . .” explaining why one of my eyes leaks. I will be talking to someone in a perfectly normal, fine conversation, not emotional, and this big teardrop rolls down my left cheek. The doctor said as we age, the lower eye lid sags and releases more liquid. Thank you so much for that. Actually he was a nice and very competent physician—I trusted what he said. I just didn’t like it.

The good news is that I took Lactaid and then ate cottage cheese for the first time in weeks. I adore cottage cheese, and it tasted so good. I added some of the batch of marinated cucumber and sweet onion I made to keep in the fridge. Delicious. Honest, I don’t mind aging if I can eat cottage cheese—and keep my wits about me.

So now we’re headed into another week. Jordan and Christian tell me they will be home several nights for dinner, so I’ve got my thinking cap on. I feel we should eat the things Jacob wouldn’t like, while saving those he would for his return. So maybe chicken stir fry, and salmon one night, and poor boy sandwiches—oops the teenager loves those!

As I write I hear distant thunder teasing us into thinking we’ll get some rain. The forecast said “possible” and “early evening” so maybe we’ve aged out of any possible rain. It’s so hot and so dry. I mentioned that the flowers weren’t blooming, and Christian replied, “They are in survival mode.”

These days, I think that’s all of us. We’re in survival mode. Pulling our heads into our houses, like turtles, and hoping to keep evil away from ourselves and our families.