Older but no wiser

 

My almost disaster dinner.

Recently I saw a Snoopy cartoon that advised, “Don’t worry about getting older. You’ll still do dumb stuff. Only slower.” I must have felt obligated to prove it true last night while cooking supper. Jordan and I decided on salmon patties and a marinated bean salad. I had seen a “fancy” recipe for salmon patties but at Jordan’s request went with the old and plain way my mom did them. But one new trick I learned (hat tip to Mary Kay Hughes) is that they hold together better if you chill them before frying. So I used two small cans of salmon and made six patties. Put them on a plate in the fridge to chill. (Another tip, this from my mom: throw a handful of instant tapioca into meatloaf or salmon patties or anything you want to hold together—you’ll never know it’s there, but it works magic.)

The bean salad was already in the fridge “blending its flavors,” but I remembered I hadn’t put in the lime juice, so I got it out. And there I sat, bowl of salad in my hands, as I watched in awe as the plate with the patties sailed out of the fridge in a perfect arc and then curved downward to land upside down at my feet. I felt like I was watching something in slow motion and absolutely incapable of doing anything about it.

For a second, I tried for the three-second rule: it hasn’t been on the floor long enough. Jordan was indignant: “I will not eat off the floor, and I will not allow you to.” I knew she was right. If it had been bread or biscuits or something, I’d have been okay. But not uncooked patties. We shooed Sophie away—she seemed to understand the gravity of the situation and did not try to sneak a bite—and Jordan swept it up and threw it away. Jordan got two more cans of salmon out of the closet (my extended pantry), and I did it all over again. I guess, being my mother’s child, what bothered me most was the waste: I used four cans of salmon (it’s not cheap) to get five salmon patties. They were good though, and the bean salad was terrific.

About bean salad: my cooking hint for the day is substitute honey for sugar and cut way back on the amount. The recipe I followed called for two Tbsp each oil, vinegar, and sugar. Whoa! I used 1 tsp. honey, and it was just right. My three-bean salad recipe also calls for a bit of honey, and though I was skeptical, I have to say it’s great.

I demonstrated my age another way one day not long ago. My oldest son and his family—wife and two grandkids—were going to Gatlinburg, TN and Dollywood for a week. Don’t ask my why. Dollywood is not and never would be on my bucket list, though I admire Dolly a great deal. I have been to Gatlinburg years ago and remember it as crowded and touristy but with good crafts. I once bought  a dinner set of good, heavy crockery in Gatlinburg. It went to whoever in the family when I downsized.

In my old-fashioned idea of a family vacation, you get up ungodly early, jump into the car, eat a sweet roll for breakfast while traveling, and drive s far as you can until evening. So I thought I’d just check the “Find a Friend” function on my phone and see if they’d gotten an early start. They were at Houston International Airport—no driving for them! Maybe it’s because I don’t like to fly, but flying and family vacation is an oxymoron to me.

No summer trip for me. Having had my riotous birthday weekend, I am once again content in the cottage and welcoming friends for happy hour. Neighbors Greg and Jaimie came up tonight. I had invited them to walk up (about a long block uphill) but they admitted they drove because it’s so hot. I love it when they come for a drink because we always laugh a lot. And we did tonight, over everything from Jordan’s teenage stories (she was with us and shared them) to neighborhood gossip. Sophie loves it because Greg was one of her early loves—when she was a pup, he came once a week to mow our yard and visited with both Sophie and me. Jaimie often brings an appetizer—she’s the source of the good baked goat cheese recipe—but tonight I fixed pigs in a blanket, which ended up being my supper.

Christian is at a “guys only” birthday evening, Jordan has gone off to watch a movie, and I, happy and content, am going to read. Sweet dreams, everyone.