Culinary Escapades

I've learned my lesson about using words on my blog with which I'm only mostly sure of the definition. So I looked up "escapade" before writing this to make sure it didn't just mean "the act of escaping." According to dictionary.com, the second definition has to do with escaping. The first has to do with "a reckless adventure or wild prank." I was aiming for reckless adventures, and that is evidently a valid use of the word. Isn't that just sublime? Now I venture forth in renewed confidence to explain this reckless culinary adventure.

As of late I've been venturing somewhat recklessly into the culinary world. I figure it's possible to eat much more cheaply and healthily by making your own food. Recent exploits include mixing two cans or refried beans, one can of corn, and two packages of imitation crab over the stove, and using the solution as chip dip or burrito filling. I thought it might be the biggest new thing in years. Turned out it tasted a lot like refried beans. I can live with that.

In the course of a recent evening, I found myself considering the case of a mission favorite, the kebab tallrik. Fries can be bought at one or two dollars for a large bag, as can salad. I have sauce. The peppers, though missed, were mostly a gimmick after all. That left only meat posing any significant financial issue. So today I was at Walmart, and found some thinly-sliced steak of which I forgot to note the name, for something like $4.58/lb, which ended up leaving a reasonable price on a surprisingly reasonable amount of meat. So I went for it. Meat, fries, salad, probably ended up less that $10, and will almost certainly last for three or four meals. I even got some orange soda, calling upon memories of cooks marinating meat in the stuff.

Got home, did some laundry, found myself available to prepare the food for future enjoyment. So I trimmed the fat off the edges of the meat and sliced it all up into appropriate kebab-sized strips. I found a box of gallon-sized zip-locks in our general use cupboard and pulled one out. There's nothing more to marinading than putting the meat in a bag or dish with the marinade, I figure. So I put the meat in the bag, and I pour in some soda.

And the table starts turning orange. And wet. That was a life-changing moment. Up to that instant, I hadn't any inkling that people made bags specifically designed to leak. Suddenly the world was a more complex, more hostile place. Apparently these are special bags for storing vegetables that need air to stay fresh, or something like that. I sprang into action with a couple of nearby kitchen towels, and eventually a third, soaking up the orange-flavored blood... or the blood-flavored orange soda... hopefully the latter, chuckling inside at the irony of soaking all three of our kitchen towels at the very moment my laundry is sitting in the dryer. I ended up putting the culination (yeah, pretty sure that's not a word at all) in a cup of bachelor apartment proportions, which had room for the meat and the soda quite perfectly. So perfectly, in fact, that it looks a lot like a cup of soda with meat-shaped ice cubes. Fortunately, I'm the only one using my fridge currently, so there should be no reason for any adventurer to drink any.

Hopefully this was a good idea. In a couple hours I'll fry it all, put it in the fridge to keep, and eat some food that Mom sent home with me on Sunday. I've had enough escapadery for one day.