I don’t know what came over me. Chalk it up to dreary weather and a failed attempt to teach long division (he gets it: I don’t). And I’m trying to clean out the pantry because (a) it needs it and (b) we’re trying to be thrifty because all those nice doctors want to be paid.
So lunchtime came around and when I looked in the pantry for inspiration, I found a childhood favorite. (Cue nostalgic music.) As I opened the can of corned beef hash, I remembered warm family dinners, circles of love, happy times.
Wait—I don’t remember it smelling like this… (First pang of regret.) And didn’t I buy this at Rite-Aid (second pang) when I was pregnant and craving weird things? (Third pang.)
And then my little math student wrinkled his nose. “What’s that yucky smell? That smells stinky!” (Confirmation of first pang.)
Undaunted, I sauteed lots of garlic, added the hash and a can of tomatoes, and poured in a little patis for salty goodness. After it simmered for a few minutes, I ladled the hash over a mound of steamed rice, and placed it in front of Ken, who likes a hot lunch and will eat almost anything. He gazed at the plate in silence and then bowed his head. “Thank you, God, for this food-like substance.”
Perhaps it’s best to trek down Memory Lane on one’s own time.
Food-like substance