With health in mind, I have experimented with a variety of recipes and, from time to time, I have improvised for friends. Just the other week, I made impromptu green chile burritos in the slow-cooker with a large round roast cut, a slew of vegetables, whipped and spattered with spices. The smell saturated the house and induced an instant, excited comment anytime a friend walked through the door.
Today, I had a flashback to when I was a kid. It was one of those nights my parents deemed “Find-It Night.” A phrase that really meant, “No, we’re not buying fast food, stop being lazy and put in some effort, there are plenty of groceries in the cupboard.” Whenever I opened the pantry I thought “Messy,” “Takes too long,” “Sounds gross,” “Just ate that last night”…my protests trailed on. In reality, I just savored the idea of fast food, where my chauffer of the drive-though would slap together something special, salty, and visually appealing as fast as I could holler into the vibrantly painted microphone.
“French fries are the most eaten vegetable in America”
But I digress… In my repeated efforts to open the cupboard and refrigerator doors, no magic happened. Nothing appeared on the fourth, or fifth opening, definitely not the David Copperfield-esque production of a steaming, prepared meal for which I had hoped for. Disappointment. Then I saw it, looming, on the shelf.
“A dream doesn't become reality through magic; it takes sweat, determination and hard work.”
Sardines. I have never eaten them. They were a whirlwind, impulse purchase because I have heard there are benefits to consuming such an animal. I thought to myself, tonight is the night. They can’t be too bad. I grabbed the can, and allowing it to glare ominously at me, as I prepared the rest of a salad which it would soon garnish. My creation came together quickly as I added spinach, onion, bell pepper, and cauliflower.
“I have never cared much for fish - it floats in the belly as much as in the pond.”
I pulled the tab on the Sardine can, just to have it snap off. This was a sign. I jammed a butter knife into the can and instantly the aroma of an alley garbage dumpster behind Joe’s Crab Shack fisted my nose. The fish were about the size of a thumb, lacked heads, but had every bone. This was a challenge that was fit for Fear Factor and I was not about to give up on my healthy dinner. I topped the monster salad with Italian dressing.
“Sometimes it works, sometimes it fails, but that's what we face when we're dealing with improvisation.”
With determination, I finished that epic salad. I tell myself, the omega-6 fatty acids are reducing inflammation already…as I chase the swimmers with ice cream.
