Close call

im free. Done at "that place" in Vancouver--sadly done at "that lovely place" in Vancouver--but not quite done with that city Vancouver thanks to this place.

For the next week, though, i am. Until my aunt and uncle and their kids return from Mexico, i get to have my own vacation in their home in the fabulous town of Vernon BC, all meals somewhat included, drinks--including water (they left the cooler empty, can you imagine?...) definately not, views of 38th ave and a pre-season un-flourishing backyard garden, all for the fantastic price of dog sitting. Actually a real deal. i love that dog, and i love being closer to home...alone. Which translates to: the kitchen is mine at any time.

Living with the other aunt i lived with in Van (without saying anything incriminating or hurtful via the world wide web), i was forced to cook on a schedule that would a) be done and cleaned up before she arrived home in the afternoon, or b) waited until she was finished her own dinner preparation, eating, and cleaning up from, and left immaculate before even thinking of taking a bite of my own supper. i never quite nailed that immaculate part though...

So it is quite a repreive to have a kitchen all to myself. My breakfast dishes didnt get done until two. Granted I didnt eat breakfast until nearly noon, and lingered over the paper and crossword, even making another stovetop espresso, it was still intentionally vacationy to leave the egg poaching pot and empty cereal container unwashed while eating. Like i implied though, this is not an all inclusive stay: that egg was mine, the cereal too, oh, and the coffee. Plus, i am dangerously drinking tap water, might i mention again (and Vernons source has infected me awfully--debilitatingly and not lovely to share actually-before).

Tonight though, i almost had to borrow, and not a cup of sugar. Something much worse. Are you ready? ...chopped garlic. Y'know that stuff that comes already minced in jar? Yeah, that stuff. I am sure some of you, probably alot of you out there use it, and to each his own. But there are a few of you, i am also sure, that are as creeped out by it as i am. It is almost yellow, for one, and doesnt seem to oxidize like "real garlic," nor even go rancidly bad after years and years of hanging out with the other odd condiments at the ready in your fridge. I cant bring myself to touch the stuff, yet tonight, i almost did.

I bought some garlic before coming here, just in case. It is one of my staples, so i picked up a head for my week of cooking at any time i pleased. i used it last night, when i rolled in after ten, unloaded my car, showered, then decided midnight was the perfect time to roast some artichokes for dinner. Tonight though, i couldnt find it. Anywhere. Not out of the way on the windowsill above where i had previously minced; not in with the cheese, the last thing to be put away; not behind, or even in, the toaster (hey, you never know, it is not as though the cluster of cloves was ginormous). And tonight i was cooking cauliflower for some pasta, and i needed it. i needed any garlic, even odd colored, work-done-for-you odd garlic in a jug. But like i said, it was a close call. I found my fresh garlic in the box with my olive oils and salt, logically stored for the rest of the week.

i really, was though, so preturbed by having to even open that jar. i mean, i even thought of writing about it (i know, technically i am, but with quite a different story), thinking i would title this post "last resort." i actually like that title better, kind of a pun, as this is hardly the resort my family is at right now...

Honestly though, coming from where i came, this is the best resort i could possibly imagine. And not even weird garlic could change that. Pampered has a whole new dinner-whenever-dishes-even-later meaning.