The Façade isn’t Worth It

Ask for help. Short phrase, simple concept. Really, really hard to execute sometimes. We place such high value on ‘keeping face’ or seeming tough and cool and untouched by mere human foibles, trials, and concerns that many of us are perversely frightened at the idea of doing what should be the one easy thing. Ask for help.

It doesn’t pay to play the brave one or the willing martyr when your world is caving in on you, and even less so when you consider the ripples through the host of people who—though you may forget it at times—count on you, whether for equally small and simple things or for being the love and joy of their lives. It doesn’t do any good to sit and wait for help to come to you: remember how hard it is for you to know your own mind, let alone read anyone else’s, and know that they can’t read yours any better. Even if they realize how deeply in need you are, they may be fearful of offering their assistance because of that very mask of competence and courage you’re hiding behind, and you both lose.

There might not be help enough in the universe to fill your need, never mind your desire. But there’s no Maybe, if you ask that from yourself alone; you will fall. You will fail. When you feel you have nothing further to lose, there are really no such things as “acceptable losses.” Accept, instead, the handout, the hand up, whatever it is that anyone at all can offer you, and with it the hope of better things. It might mean nothing more significant than lightening your mood, and that is important enough. It might save your sanity, or your life. Ask.Digital illo from a photo: Nine, Ten, a Big Fat Hen

A Place Full of Love

Photo: Timeless ITimeless I

Great friendship leads to kindling of a kind

Unknown to lovers who have never spent

Nights they devoted purely to content

Intimate intercourse strictly of mind—

Love is expansion, at its best, of souls’

Learned connectivity in friendship first,

And then the cultivating of the thirst,

Pursuing stronger wine, and then the coals—

Embers long banked as friendship had begun—

Light into fire new brilliance from a spark

Lifting great stars from the eternal dark,

Exquisite as a newly blazing sun—

Rich is the love that from such friendship springs,

Kisses of wine—and of more stellar things.Photo: Timeless II

Timeless II

In morning light, the palest leafy shade

Of birches’ green is cast upon the wall

Where portraits hang, ancestral friends who all

Keep silent watch on what the years have made

Of their descendants and their memories;

The secretary, small and staunch, remains,

And in its graceful curving shape contains

What documents can speak these histories;

Oft, in this room, the whisper of that sense

Of timeless care embracing present love

Reaches so gently from its great remove

That love fills up the room itself, immense.

When I am here, I know love so begun

Will flourish to the final setting sun.Photo: Timeless III

I Know It’s Not Tuesday, but…

…I’m still hungry. Must be about time to fix dinner! Meanwhile, this week I did serve a second round of those tuna cakes that had I made a couple of weeks ago and posted about this Tuesday, so I thought I’d update you on that.Photo: Tuna Cakes with Peanut Sauce

Having found our first servings a tiny bit bland and dry as I’d fixed them, I thought perhaps they ought to get a little saucier with us, so I served them with a Thai-inspired peanut sauce, and I do think that was a good upgrade for this batch. Peanut sauce is a staple of numerous delicious dishes, not least of all my favorites among them, satays and salad rolls (sometimes called fresh rolls or spring rolls, on restaurant menus). My little version of the sauce for the occasion was a quick-fix variant that used the goods I already had in my pantry and fridge, and they’re common enough ingredients that I suspect you can easily whip some of this up, too.Photo: Tuna Cakes Redux

This Week’s Peanut Sauce

Powdered peanuts! How did I manage without that little container o’ goodness before? It’s mighty handy stuff. Never mind that it’s made by squishing most of the oil out of peanuts, so you can flavor and thicken dishes with peanutty protein with a lower calorie count and a friendlier fat profile, it’s just plain tasty. So, to make my peanut sauce, I put some peanut dust (doesn’t that just sound so much more interesting?) in a dish, about 2/3 to 3/4 of a cup’s worth, I suppose, and added Tamari, lime juice, raw honey, toasted sesame oil, and cayenne pepper until I liked the blend. I should have thinned it a little with my fridge-handy stash of homemade broth, some apple juice, or some water, but as thick as it was it still moistened the tuna cakes and heightened their flavors pleasingly, and will likely be used on a repeat occasion or ten when I’ve got other fish [cakes] to fry.

The juicy factor was not hurt, either, by my decision to serve coleslaw packed with pieces of bright, sweet clementines and topped with sesame seeds along with the main dish. Light, quick, easy, and not at all heavy, this is a meal that would be welcome any time of year, I think.Photo: Clementine-Sesame Slaw

The Man with the Stained Glass Voice

Photo: Stained Glass VoiceWhen my dad was a collegiate radio announcer, he was known to at least one of my mom’s admiring girlfriends as Heavenly Voice, and between his speech-major skills as an orator, his wacky sense of humor, and that mellifluous voice, it’s no wonder he was able to persuade the rest of the student body to elect him president, nor that later he became a successful preacher, board chair, bishop, and community advocate in various capacities over the years.

He did not, however, use his voice as a deliberate affectation like some people we have known do. There was one cleric in particular whom my family and friends knew to have a naturally light baritone voice but, whether he did it consciously or not in the beginning, he habitually intoned everything he said with what sounded to us like a very stagey, unnatural, and ultimately pompous and pontificating basso that we dubbed his Stained Glass Voice. Dad, thankfully, only ever did such a thing as a joke. His voice was, and is, naturally attractive and engaging enough, and I suppose more importantly, he wasn’t insecure enough to need to pretend he was anything other than his own fantastic self, so we found it highly amusing in our friend and a relief that Dad didn’t fall to such silliness himself. Heaven knows he has mastered numerous other forms of more palatable silliness over the years, so why waste the energy on cartoonish vocal contortions!

Dad is celebrating his 80th birthday today, and it’s every bit as good to hear his voice (his real one) now as it ever was. Maybe more so, given that I live farther away from my parents than I did for most of my life, and that we’re all getting older and a little more conscious of the aging process with each successive year. On the other hand, my father still has the same impish and impudent sense of humor that always made him slightly hard to control or predict but easy to love, so passing calendar years neither make him seem much more grownup nor much older, a few minor scuffles with his own Father Time notwithstanding (hello, knee replacement)!Photo: Heavenly Voice

Now, I can’t begin to imitate anything as impressive and imposing as a faux James Earl Jones voice in which to wish my dad a happy birthday, nor can I sing it to him like a choir of angels. But I do send my heartfelt birthday greetings and love to him, and no matter how scratchy or shallow, Spasmodic or silly I may sound, the sentiments are as real and as clear as any stained glass. I love you, Dad! May this birthday and the whole year that follows it be filled with delight and great adventures. And whatever your heart desires. [Within reason. Nothing that the Glen Brothers and I can’t provide between us, anyway.]

Hot Flash Fiction 14: I’ll have a Donut to Go with that Miscalculation, Please

Digital illo + text: Unexpected Return on Investment

Digital illo from photos: Electrifying Surprise

Foodie Tuesday: You *Can* Tuna Fish

As the old joke goes, “you can tune a piano, but you can’t tuna fish!” But not only is it silly as humor goes, it’s wrong, in my estimation. Tuna, whether raw or cooked or tinned, is a mild-flavored fish, and as such can be harmonious with a wide range of ingredients and preparations and dishes. As with most fish, the freshness and quality of the tuna are the determining characteristics in the success of any preparation you choose. I’ve eaten tuna that was mediocre, and tuna that was spectacularly delicious, and plenty that fell at some mark in between, happily toward the better end of the spectrum for the most part.

Given the price of genuine Tsukiji-grade sashimi tuna, I leave the handling and preparation of it to sushi masters who feed me. I’m not even confident enough in my skills to make a reliable seared tuna loin, my favorite way to eat fresh or flash-frozen tuna, so that’s left to expert chefs as well. I hope to change that eventually, but in the meantime, it leaves me dependent on the kind that ends its swimming with a ride in a can to my pantry. And that is not a bad thing. Once I discovered that tuna can be cooked in a tin with nothing more than itself, or perhaps a touch of salt, I turned my back on all of the iffy tinned stuff packed in water, oil, or any other adulterating liquid that affects its texture, flavor, and flexibility as an ingredient in any recipe. There are a handful of companies I’ve found that offer really lovely preserved tuna fillets in cans, fish so unmolested that it tastes delicious straight out of the tins. It’s worlds better for tuna salad, and that’s handy since old-fashioned tuna salad is a lifelong favorite of both my partner’s and mine, whether on a sandwich or on crackers, salad greens, or rice.

It’s grand in other all-American basic recipes like tuna noodle casseroles or tuna melts. And because its texture remains flaky and dense rather than the unpleasantly mushy stuff that comes out of the average tuna tin, this sort of tuna makes a wonderful ingredient for a wider variety of edible goodies than anyone averse to the old-school, mass-produced kind of tinned tuna would ever guess.Photo: Michelle Tam's Nom Nom Paleo Spicy Tuna Cakes

We took inspiration from the marvelous Michelle Tam at Nom Nom Paleo last week and used her recipe—mostly unaltered, much to the amazement of my spouse, who’s so accustomed to my habitual recipe fiddling—for Spicy Tuna Cakes, and the tuna I used was perfect for them. For the first meal of these, I topped mine with melted cheddar and made side dishes of sautéed green beans and mushrooms with bacon crumbles, and a Waldorf sort of salad of apples and celery with a light lemony mayonnaise dressing that had hearty helpings of both pickled and candied ginger to jazz it up. [Please excuse the after-dark quickie photo.] Maybe this week I’ll go pan-Asian and start dinner with hot and sour soup and then serve the tuna cakes with Thai peanut sauce.

One of the particular benefits of this tuna cake recipe is that it’s not only easy to fix but also makes enough for several meals for the two of us, so I’ll likely make up a double batch (two muffin tins’ worth) and freeze even more of them next time. In addition, it’s one that I can tell will easily adapt to a number of kindly variations—look out, Mr. Sparkly!—and I’m sure I’ll try some of those as well, over time.

Gold in the Darkness

Image

Digital illustrations from photos + text: Galilee Chapel

Ménage à Moi

Digital illo from a photo: Woolly NillyZoo Zooming

I’m off to see the monkeys now,

The ibex, the Tibetan cow,

The tortoise, hippo, kangaroo—

But if you think it’s to the zoo

I’m heading out, you’re incorrect—

I’m off to feed my intellect

Not in the jungle nearby found,

But where the animals are bound

In paper quarters, for you see,

I’m headed for the library.