A Really Good Fight
Okay, I hate to do this to you all again…but, trust me: this one wraps up with a little more substance than just torturing you one more time with the beef tenderloin and red wine reduction sauce. Which I made again. For the fifth time in less than a month. Because I am pathetic it’s that good.
But I need to back up and make good on a promise I mentioned a few weeks ago about a certain Big Fight me and Cute Redhead had over something soooOOOOooo stupid, and yet so important (more on that later). I’ve actually been keeping the story on the fight in a holding pattern inside my head, which I’m wont to do until I sort of see it come full circle. I mean, I need it to come together into something cohesive before I’m going to sit down and write it out.
And, well…that happened tonight. But, first, the Big Fight:
A few days after me and Cute Redhead joined our friends at the night of the gourmet cooking class, we decided we’d try our hand at the recipes (and if you haven’t tried them, I really think you need to) (and if you really just said, “I really don’t think I do,” I think you’re really missing out.) We were very excited because though the recipe was simple enough, it promised a meal neither of us could resist. What’s more, Cute Redhead thought it would be a great dish to perfect so we could entertain friends with it. Loved the idea. LOVED it.
And she said (this was one of the Stupid Points of the Big Fight) “like within the week.” And it’s a Stupid Point because she completely denies ever having said “like within the week.” Which I know seems irrelevant, but it sort of comes up later, so just dog-ear that page.
A few nights after that, she tells me that she took a second mortgage out on our home and bought some beef tenderlo—”OH. MY. GAWD. that stuff is expensive! Are you kidding me?!” And that right there was the end of my concern because it really is that good and, having cooked this meal five times over, I’d pay twice the amount for the right cut of meat. (And, for what it’s worth, I’ve experiment on three of the experiments with lesser cuts. Verdict: nothing compares. So, if you want to keep costs down you can certainly recruit a less expensive choice of meat. I’m just saying that nothing will compare to beef tenderloin. Nothing.) [end lecture]
Now. I needed to run get a certain ingredient that (if you can believe it) is actually more expensive ounce-for-ounce than 24K gold beef tenderloin. And it’s an ingredient and a process (I promise I am not making this up) I actually came up with ALL. BY. MYSELF. APART. FROM. THE. ORIGINAL. RECIPE.
And it is even better.
*yay me.
The slight problem with this ingredient was that I bought a five ounce container of it.
And it cost…
…um…
$37.00
BUT…the reason I bought it was because I knew we’d use it since we were having guests within the week, right?
Yeah no.
World. War. Three.
Which I know has got to sound ridiculous—and it sort of was—but there’s more (there’s always more) to it that you have to underst—
Well.
Okay, we’re going to have to switch gears here for a bit.
Grab some coffee.
Marriage, it’s been said, is the process by which a soul undergoes the deepest cutting and most painful surgery. Without anesthetic.
And it’s true. But you have to have a certain number of years under your belt and water under the bridge before you surrender a hefty sigh in a half-chuckle/half-frown agreement to that one. And I don’t care who you are, you don’t get to acknowledging this without having had your share of ups and downs. Which is a very sterilized way of putting the realities.
More, eighteen years and three children into the Waltz, Cute Redhead and I are no more immune to picking up some really bad habits than the next couple. And it has been very difficult in ways I’m not going to detail (and probably don’t need to), but definitely mean to convey: we get it. I mean, We Get It.
Marriage is, without rival, the most difficult arena two humans can enter into and one which none of us had the capacity to appreciate when we made the vows. Which is how it’s supposed to be, as all the veterans know. And no matter how much you get it in your head, no amount of getting it in your head is going to afford you a hall pass such that you don’t have to come through what you have to come through in order to get it in your heart.
And, kids, that means the hard stuff. Which, again, is a very sterilized way of putting the realities.
And Cute Redhead and myself have our own version of this very thing, make no mistake. I know I do a lot of laughing here on WIP (and it’s authentic, I promise you), but, trust me, we’ve had no shortage of blowouts and close calls and doors slamming and Stupid Words Said and swearing That’s It—I’m Done.
And that night I came home with $37.00 worth of an ingredient she didn’t think we needed
and What Do You Mean “we don’t need it”?? you JUST told me last night we’d have friends over within the week for dinn—
YOU DID TOO SAY THAT! Are you kidding me?! Why in the HEL—
—oh and what’s that supposed to mean?
…and then take one of your world-class fights with the spouse of your choice (because you chose them lol), and there you have what one of my favorite comedians (Ron White) termed “turning my van into a tripod and spinning me into a dimension of Pissed Off I never even knew existed.”
What. A. Night.
By the end of it, we sat in a silence after the salvo, ears ringing and stunned at how much sense this didn’t make. A real good, thick despondency over the disagreement, the miscommunications, the misinterpretations, the frayed nerves, the hurt feelings, the bleah, bleah bleah, right?
And we went to bed (in the same bed) (which should get your attention) (because when you fight this bad and still sleep in the same bed it — I think I see this now — means something profound.)
Because it went like this:
Her: [touches his shoulder] “…are you alright?”
Him: [turned on his side, facing the other way] “…no.” [thinks to self: 'dang it. don't put your hand on my shoulder like that. I've got a really good Mad going here.] Then [*sigh* what's the point?] Grabs her hand.
And then I turned over.
And then we fell asleep. Holding each other’s hand.
And please don’t assign some soft-focused Hollywood soundtrack to that (even though it’d work)…because we were at the end of ourselves. But (remember what I just wrote) sleeping in the same bed. Somehow, we got to the place of realizing there’s not only No Place To Go (there is, but like that’d do anything to help, right?), there’s really No Better Place To Be.
That is, at The End Of Ourselves.
Somewhere in the night, or the next day or days, we realized we need to relearn, unlearn and learn all over again some of the basics. And that, thankfully, has meant everything. I hope, too, I’m not sounding like we were on the edge of divorce. We really weren’t. We were, however, on the edge of cold-blooded murder lol. But there’s something about plotting the demise of your beloved which apparently gives God just the opening He’s been looking for in the form of, “So…you two about ready to look at what I’ve been threading together for the past eighteen years, or do we make another lap around the track, because I love you but yall are really getting on My nerves. You know, in love I mean.”
Okay. Enough of that. Back to the ingredient and why it and everything else ties together.
Cute Redhead had a business trip and was out of town for a day and a night. It fell to me to feed The Spawn and I realized two things about the extra beef tenderloin in the freezer:
Thing 1: I wanted to eat it
and
Thing 2: I wanted to eat it really bad
So I defrosted it and decided to devote my entire day to wondering if it was good and fair and right to make this incredible meal (again) while Wife was away and couldn’t enjoy it. Ten seconds later I decided it was good and fair and right and made my way to the store to get the things I didn’t have but needed…
and then saw the thing I didn’t need but wanted.
The $37.00 ingredient.
Okay, at this point Heaven and Earth are locked in seismic struggle, right? If I buy this to make this reduction sauce (don’t you totally wonder what the ingredient is?) (you big liar, you do too), I might as well find a good lawyer. I was in the white-knuckle grip of right and wrong, and very much on the horns of a dilemma. All while I stood at the butcher counter. All while I looked at The Ingredient. All while tears welled in my eyes.
All while Butcher said, “Pardon me a second, buddy.” and proceeded to stock the shelf in front of me
with
A. FIVE. DOLLAR. PORTION. OF. THE. INGREDIENT.
I looked at it.
I looked at him.
I looked back at it.
I looked back at him.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“Can I marry you? I asked.
*Todd claps, skips, squeals out of store and heads home to make dinner
With The Ingredient Which Didn’t Cost More Than Healthcare Reform.
And, friends….I just don’t know how to put this. This latest red wine reduction sauce made me want to take all my clothes off, slather it all over me and lick it off my naked body.
*give you a few seconds to appreciate that one
I’m not kidding. And neither is Beta Male who (I promise I am not making this up) LEFT the saucepan in which I prepared this Nectar Of The Gods on the floor in our bedroom having licked — LICKED — it and Teflon® clean off. It’s that good.
And then the next day Cute Redhead came home.
And I told her I made that dish again. And I told her I…
…bought The Ingreditent JUST! TO! TEST! IT! OKAAAAAY?!
And she shot me
The Look
And then I (hee hee hee) totally clipped the green wire (not the red wire for you bomb squad enthusiasts out there) with, “No no no no no lol no new new new heeewwwww…they have a $5 portion of it!!”
And got The Smile
But I got The Smile only partly because I didn’t sell a child to come home with a $37 ingredient. I got The Smile partly because Cute Redhead and I really are learning the beginnings of the best stuff. And what’s that, you ask? Why it’s what this dude said better than I could ever say it:
“Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being “in love” which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.” – St. Augustine By the way, did any one else know St. Augustine was married? Because I sure didn’t.So. I end this one certain of (*counts on fingers) three things:
Thing 1: I don’t think this tied together half so well as I had hoped (and don’t care).
Thing 2: I love this reduction sauce (and want more).
and
Thing 3: I love Cute Redhead more than I love this reduction sauce (even though she drives me nuts).
1. Please, make more reduction but change the subject. Grab a book of recipes, please. Use Alabriño wine for white fish, A very expensive Ribera del Duero or some Rioja or some Chateâu for meat, and some liquor for the flambe desert.
2. Didn’t you know St. Augustine was married? That’s not good at all. Zero points.
3. Anybody here was really surprise you wanted to TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF (when in life did you say something like that before?)
4. It’s hard to be married to a smart woman. But you love to take advantage of it.
5. You two love each other. That’s the only thing that matters (that an find the INGREDIENT at the best price on the market. 10 points on that.)
Wow, Frappé. You sure like making lists, don’t you? :) Now excuse me while I go in search of some Ribera Del Duero. And a dictionary.
Well, I’m learning from you, Americans…lol.
Just to make a point here I use numbers, because it’s everything so together taht sometimes it’s hard to read.
Ribera del Duero: one of the best red wines of the world: Vega Sicilia, Protos… Albariño: the best white wine of the world. It has been born in the Rhine river and, once the Cluny monks came to Galicia, with this unique Atlantic climate, it turns out to transform into liquid gold (something like that)
If you’re trying to get me all hot and bothered, it’s working.
Oh, I’m so sorry! It wasn’t my intention at all.
I was joking, Frappé lol
Funny. Very funny.
I know this isn’t the point but… The ingredient? I’m distracted by my curiousity.
ooOOOoooh the secret recipe. About time someone zeroed in on that! It’s a Demi-Glace made of veal stock. Usually in specialty stores, and debuting on the NYSE any day now lol.