oh, so many choices. where to begin a selection of what to do for dinner tonight. yes, you can go to the market and buy what looks good, or open the cupboard and see what might work. it's a good thing to have such a cupboard, not simply because you might find yourself alone in the rain still wearing 'jamas, but even if the sun shines you might be too lazy to start up your diesel and go deep. me, i hate supermarkets with a passion, even the midwifes of cookery fare, those whole foods and their frigid likes. the lighting alone, the icy isles, the intense scent of the woman in line for a filet. so i keep my visits confined. once a month, a full shopping cart and on, out the door with the cans, the frozens, the pastas and pastes, the stuff from bulk bins, paper towels, sponges, soapsuds, the likes. yes, it mellows the mood, if on those troubled days the reach for the cupboard, the pantry or shelf allows to do dinner.
if on a clear day the hungry aims for the market however, and in portland that would likely be pasta works or its sibling, city market, choices still will have to be made. my ideas for what to eat that night are often inspired by what's at the counter. silver coho looks good, so does the trout, ling cod just came in, a bargain; or are fat scallops a notion for dinner tonight? such pricey worries when unemployment is at fourteen percent. really. the woman at fish likely thinks me a snob. and i am. quite a lovable snob though, and if it's fresh squid she offers, i'll pass on the salmon, the striper and such. but, hey, and oh, and whoo-y, those mushrooms bewitch, don't they, get a hold of them-those chanterelles, ach, the maitake, king trumpets, and ah, and again, oooh, just look at those sumptuous matsutake. mere magic zen. yes, s'no doubt, there will be a variant 'shroom stew tonight. marble potatoes, some kale, a quick action, a potion, of leek, some paste and a couple of carrots for the mushrooms to dawdle, slowly, very, merely a loll of a simmer, so that their fragrance renders, their texture intact, yes, the pot smiles, on a stew for the gods, and for me, feeling terrific tonight.