Recommended wine for today’s entry: My friend Ray alerted me to the fact that they are calling for 2009 to be a PRIMO year for Bordeauxs (http://www.telegraph.co.uk/foodanddrink/wine/6283231/2009-Bordeaux-vintage-set-to-be-best-in-60-years-thanks-to-perfect-weather.html) With that in mind, I did some research for a great one to recommend and found this. Why not think about investing in one of these two, as recommended in Will Lyons’ Wall Street Journal blog: “Vieux Château Certan, which impressed me enormously, received a 96-99 rating from Mr. Parker. I feel a tad sad about this score as its price may now be too high for many cellars. Ditto with Léoville-Poyferre, which Mr. Parker rates 97-100. Expect its value to soar. ” Mr. Parker, as you may know, refers to esteemed wine expert Robert Parker. Go on — your other investments aren’t pulling much in right now — go Bordeaux!
You know those two little girls that are always at the end of the hall in The Shining? You know, the ones who asked Danny Torrence to play with them forever…and ever… and who are the only people who scare me more than Lady Gaga does?
Well, one of those little creeps grew up and was stalking me at Meijer yesterday.
She looked innocuous enough, in her striped blouse and pants that looked like capris but were really pants that were significantly too short for her. Scrawny little ankles and feet an NBA star would be proud of. She had one of those plastic baskets dangling from her bent arm, all Red Riding Hoodish. She was a looker, all right. But she seemed nice enough.
I was in the produce department, selecting just the perfect zucchini for my family. Well, right off the bat, I should admit that’s a lie – I always grab the first piece of any produce and put it in the bag, because 1) I don’t care too much what it looks/feels/smells like and 2) I think it’s nasty when people paw stuff other people are going to eat and I think it’s blatantly repulsive when they touch it to their nose and then put it back in the stack so that unsuspecting moms who don’t thoroughly wash their produce take it home and feed their family zucchini with some stranger’s snot on it.
Anyway, so I was frantically grabbing zucchini, squash and green peppers and this woman — I swear — materializes out of nowhere and says, “You should come to my house. I have all those vegetables. They’re in my yard.”
Now, I know not to take candy from strangers and so I said, “Yeah, maybe I’ll follow you home.”
Well, just then her husband, a mean-looking thug wielding a bas-kart, showed up. He glared at me and pulled her by the arm over to the deli, where they stood, for the longest time, watching the meat cutter slicing pound after pound of Sara Lee turkey. I didn’t see them order anything or get anything. I finished my produce shopping.
I started to head to the cheese kiosk, because while my family was eating some vegetable-laden garbage, I was going to have nachos.
And then she was there. At the end of the cheese kiosk. With her basket, still empty, dangling from her arm. She just smiled at me really big and then ducked behind the kiosk and out of sight.
So I grabbed cheese quickly and bustled over to the bagged salads, where I knew it would be safe because she has an enormous vegetable garden and I just knew she grew her own lettuce, most certainly foregoing the chemically treated and preservative loaded bags o’ green.
But there she was. Still nothing in her basket, I might note. She grinned at me and felt two bags of salad (not sure what she was feeling for, but I wasn’t about to ask.)
Now I’m getting a little frantic and just want out of the store. I actually look around for the thug of a husband, but he has totally disappeared and I figure OK, if I can just get the hell out of the produce section, then I’m golden.
So I headed to the pasta aisle, which has to be a half mile away, to get a jar of Prego that I planned to doctor up with the chunks of veggies to make my idiot family believe I actually cooked.
Yep. You guessed it. There waiting for me.
Well, I am no chicken, but I also saw The Shining one too many times, so I hustled through the checkout line without the pasta or Prego and I served my family this delicious improvised dinner:
Chunks of zucchini, squash and green pepper over rice.
They doused it with soy sauce and everything was fine. If they’d complained, I might have turned into Jack Nicholson.