The title sums up yesterday's holiday. Bob and I grilled mushrooms, shrimp and lobster tails... yum, yum! The shellfish was slathered in a garlic butter roue. This is the recipe:
1. Chop & chop some more until finely chopped, fresh garlic, about twelve cloves - place in a small bowl to use for basting, 2. Use two sticks of butter, melt and pour over the garlic, 3. Drizzle in some extra virgin olive oil, 1/4 cup will do, 4. Splash in a sweet white wine, not too much, it will overwhelm the lemon & lime juice you'll add next, 5. Juice two small lemons and one medium lime and add to the butter mixture.
You can duplicate this recipe for your dipping sauce as well! Jeez! Our hearts skipped a couple of beats when they saw all the fat and cholesterol but, really, we don't often eat rich foods like this. We were celebrating and thought, "what the heck?" And, boy oh boy, was it good.
We grilled the shrimp in the shell and split the lobster tail in half (in the shell). After it was served up and ready to eat all you heard was a bunch of munching and slopping of lips. It was so far from ettiquette, Emily Post would have cried.
What's in store for today? (you ask) I've dropped a few bags of English Breakfast and lotus blossoms in a jar of water to make a complex version of sun tea. Hey, why not? Let's mix it up, right?
If humans cleaned each other the way cats do - lazing around together, licking each other's eyes and ears - I suppose we'd all get along a lot better.
I'd never lick Mary's face, however. She's such a beast. I guess that's why there are cat fights. She showed up at a little store where I was furniture shopping and chatting with the owner, Danny. Danny changed her female and more proper name of Danielle just to be different, at least that's what she told me one evening after a couple bottles of wine.
Mary's voice hissed my name when she saw me, when she came up behind me. Right away she started in about her sister in-law, Tammy - my best friend. I don't know if Tammy is technically Mary's "ex" sister in-law because Tammy's husband died, but Mary called Tammy her "ex sister in-law" that morning with more than her usual added flair. It seems I wasn't in the mood for her mouth so early because I spun around and glared at her, then started in...
"Mary, you're never happy unless you're saying something mean or you're the center of attention, are you?"
"Oh, bite me, Eliza."
All I felt was my skin prickle and my dander flair and I suddenly felt the urge to oblige her, because I found myself pinning Mary against a wall with my hand firmly around her throat and I had her in a lock that could hold Mohammed Ali. She could barely speak from the force of my grip around her neck.
I said, "Listen, Mary. After today, if I hear you say one thing (I emphasized the word "one") about Tammy, I'll come after you and instead of the sweet way I'm telling you now, I'll pound your ass into a bloody pulp. You got it?" But, instead of letting her go or even listening to her respond, I smashed her head hard against the wall and because it felt so good to me - the instant rush of adrenalin pulse in a flash and to release my anger on her - I did it again.
Danny, coming out of her momentary shock at how fast things got out of control, finally yelled to me. "Eliza, let her go, she can't breath."
"Well, maybe if she sees God for a second, she'll remember we're all supposed to love one another." And, as a good measure, I smashed her head once more against the wall. "You start talking sweet about Tammy, you hear me, Mary? Or, you'll have Hell to pay. I promise."
I pushed off of her and she crumpled to the ground and began to whimper and explain. I looked at Danny. She was just standing there, stunned and shaking her head. "Just go, Eliza." She shooed me with her hands to leave.
I suppose I could've just slapped her once firmly against the cheek, but I wanted our experience together to be more personal than that - wanted it close and memorable, you know?
Of course, when I think back about the cat-thing, they fight too, don't they. Sometimes it's a quick bat of the paw and then they run off away from trouble and then other times it's a full-on rumble, wrestling and kicking in a sprawl all over the ground. Now, when I think about it, I was wrong. If we were more like cats, maybe we wouldn't get along any better than we do now.