They say that the way to a man's stomach is through his heart. That's not it...the way to a man's duodenum is through his ear canal? The way to a man's pituitary gland is through his spleen? No, no...I'll get it. The way to a man's esophagus is through his mouth? Almost there...(But Coach Barry...my junior high science teacher would be proud that I remembered that) Of course I know, the way to a man's heart is through his wife and her wonderful and giving spirit...while she makes wonderful food!
I love my wife, all the time, and still there are times when love turns into a great big giant incapacitating hug on the inside that warms me from my soles of my feet up to the roots of my hair. I believe the technical term for this is Goo Goo. Yes, the other night I went Goo Goo for my wife. (I'll now pause so that the diabetics in the audience can go increase their insulin due to all this sweetness)
Goo Goo, or Ga Ga in the southern states and portions of Los Angeles, happens to me most of the time when there seems to be no external reason. She just walks by, BAM! I gotta hug her, weak in the knees, take my breath away, hug her. She smiles, WHAM! She looks at me like I am crazy and doesn't know what she is going to do with me and my weird sense of humor, SMACKO! (actually that last one is the one that happens most often) It is usually accompanied with her saying, "What?! Stop looking at me that way!" But what're you gonna do. I can't help it!
Now, to shift subjects, I really really like comfort food. You can see evidence of this hanging in the labels of my clothes and on the display screen of my very sarcastic scale. For the purposes of this blog, and to explain to my ever growing overseas readers, I describe comfort food as hearty, unhealthy, dense, stick-to-your-ribs delicious. Some examples might be mashed potatoes, meatloaf, or macaroni and cheese. While visiting Germany this last summer I reacquainted myself with the European version...Schnitzel! It is yummy, it is satisfying, it is not terribly good for you. I'll have that.
Comfort food has made its way into Casa Garrett and most times I will be greeted by a delicious aroma when walking up the steps to the front door after work. Other times I might be greeted by a harried spouse with a "I have had quite a DAY! Dinner is waiting for you to pick it up as soon as you decide where you are picking it up from." look on her face.
Now allow me to tie this all together. The other evening I plowed headfirst into a smell that made me wonder why there weren't neighbors with plates lined up to try to get some. It was Stroganoff night! If you aren't familiar...it's a creamy meaty concoction whose recipe was handed down from Heaven above. (or possibly Russia) The way my family makes it is dangerous. If some spilled on the floor I would fight the dogs over who would get to lick it up. Rest assured, nobody is that careless with this ambrosia! This meal is traditionally served over noodles but there have been people, my mother included, who have served it over rice. I made it with rice once for our family. Everyone preferred noodles...rice go bye bye. No problem. Majority rules. Pass the Stroganoff.
So I walked in, commented on the wonderful dinner we were about to have, kissed Sylvia hello, and then I saw it. There was the rice cooker steaming away. I was surprised, we were a noodle family after all. I could tell by the plates on the table, both kids in the kitchen, (and the line of neighbors forming out the front door) that dinner was almost ready. I said, "Rice? I thought you all preferred noodles." Sylvia said, "Yes, we prefer noodles...but you prefer rice. Why didn't you tell me?" I surveyed the scene. There on the stove was a big pot of noodles to complement my individual portion of rice. (actually it was a gigantic portion of rice that would have fed three hungry lumberjacks but since I'm the one writing, I get to make up the details to make myself look good.) I had mentioned something about rice a while back and she picked it up and ran with it. That was all it took. Getting pampered by your very thoughtful wife, as soon as you walk in the door, and with comfort food no less! I was in full blown GOO GOO mode! I grabbed her and hugged her tight. I participated in a public display of affection that made the teenagers run from the room (but the puppy jumped up on us because he doesn't like to be left out) and then I sat down to enjoy a wonderful meal with my family...and a bowl of rice.
I Love You Sylvia. Thank You!
I love my wife, all the time, and still there are times when love turns into a great big giant incapacitating hug on the inside that warms me from my soles of my feet up to the roots of my hair. I believe the technical term for this is Goo Goo. Yes, the other night I went Goo Goo for my wife. (I'll now pause so that the diabetics in the audience can go increase their insulin due to all this sweetness)
Goo Goo, or Ga Ga in the southern states and portions of Los Angeles, happens to me most of the time when there seems to be no external reason. She just walks by, BAM! I gotta hug her, weak in the knees, take my breath away, hug her. She smiles, WHAM! She looks at me like I am crazy and doesn't know what she is going to do with me and my weird sense of humor, SMACKO! (actually that last one is the one that happens most often) It is usually accompanied with her saying, "What?! Stop looking at me that way!" But what're you gonna do. I can't help it!
Now, to shift subjects, I really really like comfort food. You can see evidence of this hanging in the labels of my clothes and on the display screen of my very sarcastic scale. For the purposes of this blog, and to explain to my ever growing overseas readers, I describe comfort food as hearty, unhealthy, dense, stick-to-your-ribs delicious. Some examples might be mashed potatoes, meatloaf, or macaroni and cheese. While visiting Germany this last summer I reacquainted myself with the European version...Schnitzel! It is yummy, it is satisfying, it is not terribly good for you. I'll have that.
Comfort food has made its way into Casa Garrett and most times I will be greeted by a delicious aroma when walking up the steps to the front door after work. Other times I might be greeted by a harried spouse with a "I have had quite a DAY! Dinner is waiting for you to pick it up as soon as you decide where you are picking it up from." look on her face.
Now allow me to tie this all together. The other evening I plowed headfirst into a smell that made me wonder why there weren't neighbors with plates lined up to try to get some. It was Stroganoff night! If you aren't familiar...it's a creamy meaty concoction whose recipe was handed down from Heaven above. (or possibly Russia) The way my family makes it is dangerous. If some spilled on the floor I would fight the dogs over who would get to lick it up. Rest assured, nobody is that careless with this ambrosia! This meal is traditionally served over noodles but there have been people, my mother included, who have served it over rice. I made it with rice once for our family. Everyone preferred noodles...rice go bye bye. No problem. Majority rules. Pass the Stroganoff.
So I walked in, commented on the wonderful dinner we were about to have, kissed Sylvia hello, and then I saw it. There was the rice cooker steaming away. I was surprised, we were a noodle family after all. I could tell by the plates on the table, both kids in the kitchen, (and the line of neighbors forming out the front door) that dinner was almost ready. I said, "Rice? I thought you all preferred noodles." Sylvia said, "Yes, we prefer noodles...but you prefer rice. Why didn't you tell me?" I surveyed the scene. There on the stove was a big pot of noodles to complement my individual portion of rice. (actually it was a gigantic portion of rice that would have fed three hungry lumberjacks but since I'm the one writing, I get to make up the details to make myself look good.) I had mentioned something about rice a while back and she picked it up and ran with it. That was all it took. Getting pampered by your very thoughtful wife, as soon as you walk in the door, and with comfort food no less! I was in full blown GOO GOO mode! I grabbed her and hugged her tight. I participated in a public display of affection that made the teenagers run from the room (but the puppy jumped up on us because he doesn't like to be left out) and then I sat down to enjoy a wonderful meal with my family...and a bowl of rice.
I Love You Sylvia. Thank You!
Awwww! Now you have to pass along the recipe so I can make it for Rand
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