Too bad society is not normal. In fact, society is terrifying. Forget Homeland Secuirty: the average highway has more terrorists driving than the CIA should allow. I'd like to see Bin Laden flee from the army of SUV driving soccer moms barelling down the I 10 in search of last minute presents. We must notify Obama that a torture far more sinister than water boarding persists far closer than Guantanamo: Christmas shopping.
I left the night vision goggles and sniper scope at home. Of course I didn't need night vision goggles, that would be silly. However, I could've used more than a scope on the highway. James Bond has nothing on Phoenix. Evade the bludger SUVs, skirt the barely moving Buicks, don't forget to exit. Jason Bourne can drive through tiny European streets with people shooting at him. Who gives? I can ninja from the West to East valley in under an hour.
Yet, the highway is the easy part. I cannot stand traffic, and as I got into the first of many lines trying to find a parking spot, I yearned for a paper bag and some chocolate pudding. It was worse than Lord of the Flies. Every car for itself, just trying to park and happy to be alive.
If the parking lot is a frying pan, a shopping mall is a bonfire to be recokoned with. Screaming children. Stressed out Santas. Irritating teenagers who refuse to talk in normal octaves. Harried mothers. Armies of old men asleep on chairs, waiting for their wives. Phalanxes of families looking for their spears and shields. No statin would bring down my blood pressure.
I do confess: I am to crowds as a cat is to thunderstorms. I don't mind performing in front of them, and I'm not phased by public speaking. However, actually assimilating into the Borg puts me on edge. My sister laughs at her sibling who usually can handle inordinate amounts of stress but has to be talked off a ledge every time she gets near a Macy's.
This is not new. It is nearly tradition, actually. Every year my wonderful parents ask what I need for Christmas. Every year I need new clothing. Every year I have to try on clothing. Every year the legions of clothing overwhelm me, and my mother finds me curled up in a dressing room, hiding from reality. The upside to this is that I've figured out which stores have the best napping spaces. Finally, every year my family resuscitates their daughter, who proceeds to rant about indoctrinated materialism and consumer whores. Fortunately, before said daughter decides to join an ashram in the Himalayas and live off wheat grass, it is time for lunch.
Of course, the antidote to post-shopping paralysis is comfort food. However, I was desperate to avoid my devolving holiday diet of sugar, fat, and beer. So, at the suggestion of my mother, I came up with a winter soup using up some left over turkey sausage and kale. It apparently also echoes of the kale soup at the Olive Garden, although I'm sure this is much healthier.
Kale screams comfort to me: it is one of the few greens I like to eat wilted or in soup- it is so sturdy it doesn't feel slimy at all. It lends a heartiness that almost makes me understand how vegetarians are not constantly starving. Turkey sausage is by no means vegetarian, but it is low in fat and full of flavor, so you needn't add a bunch of spices to the thing, nor drain out rendered grease. It is incredibly fast to make. I add a little whole milk, potatoes, and onions to make an easy winter soup that would soothe a cat pushed into a bathtub by an entire mall full of menacing shoppers.
Sausage and Kale Soup: Shopping Antidote
1 lb hot italian turkey sausage, either removed from casing or cut into 3/4 in pieces
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 onion, diced
1 head of kale, rinsed and roughly chopped
3 small red potatoes, or two small normal ones, diced
salt/pepper
optional seasonings: paprika, dried rosemary, fennel seed
3 cans chicken broth or stock
2 c whole milk
Cook sausage, onions, garlic, and potatoes in a bit of olive oil in a large soup pot over med-high heat. Once sausage is browned and potatoes are less like rocks, add kale and let cook down a few more minutes. Season. Add chicken broth, and stir to deglaze pan. Bring to a boil. Bring down to a simmer and cook for 10 more min. Keep heat low and add milk. Stir occasionally until soup is just ready to simmer again.
Beans can be thrown in if you like that sort of thing. One can of white beans or garbanzos could be thrown in with the stock, giving more body to the dish.
you know i have to say this just because i thought of it as i read this one, you sound alot like that food network guy Alton Brown the way he rambles on while he cooks on his show. just thought i would share that with you.
ReplyDelete