Monday, November 19, 2007

How Food And Multiple Homes Don't Work Together

So I'd love to show you all the beautiful Vietnamese dinner that The BF and I made last night. The pure white noodles, nestled beneath the mounds of green herbs, lettuce, carrots, and jalapeƱo, carrying the heavy load of caramelized-to-perfection pork. I wish you could have seen it as the glistening pink/orange of the nuoc cham spilled over the top, cascading to the depths of my bowl, creating a pocket of sweet amongst my noodles. Yeah, it would be nice for you to see that, but since I didn't have my camera available you can't.

Say hello to one of the many problems that face those of us that live in limbo between two locations: not having the things you need when you need them. It's a frustrating thing, especially when you stay that extra night and you have absolutely nothing left to wear. And you have to run into your own place before work and get completely dressed in a massive hurry. And then, if you've cooked a big meal, you have to move the leftovers to the appropriate house as well, so you don't waste them (and you get your damned moneys worth from that grocery trip that cost far more than eating lunch and dinner out for the next three days would have, but you do it because you love it).

Anyways, there's no point in posting the recipe because without the pictures it just doesn't have the same appeal. Even if I describe it as best I possibly could, it's just never going to do it for you. I understand that, because I'm the same way. Which leads me back to my gripe about not having all my things readily available to me when I'm at The BF's and vice versa. It's not something that can be helped right now. So we must overcome. I must not think about the bottle of Calvados that's sitting nearly full in my cupboard that was bought for just a tablespoon that was needed, and may never be used again. Or about the broth that needs to be made before Thanksgiving dinner at The BF's house that involves using 1/2 cup of Calvados. The same 1/2 cup that is sitting at my own house. Sure, just bring the Calvados from one place to the other. But it's not that simple. It involves planning out the week. Who's house will we stay at what night? Are there plans any night in The City that we must be around for? Is the commute from San Rafael worthy of that damn bottle of Calvados?

Conclusion: if you're going to do the whole food thing you need to either be single or you need to live with your significant other. Or, as an alternative, you need to be super rich so you don't have to feel bad about buying multiple bottles of esoteric alcohol.

1 comment:

Loren said...

My sweetie and I have encountered the same issues; we live 45 miles apart (she lives in the city, I live in the South Bay). Over the past three years, we've amassed quite a collection of Gladware to transport leftovers back and forth. The good news is that we'll be moving into the same household soon, so no more shuttling food up and down the Peninsula.