Subtle Coolness

I was walking across campus on my way from work to choir. I was passing Painter Hall — home of biology and computer science laboratories. I was strolling along with my bag over my shoulder when I inhaled the unmistakable odor of Malt-O-Meal.

I have no idea where it came from, or if it was, indeed, the Malt-O-Meal I perceived it to be. But that short moment of olfactory sensation triggered a chain of thoughts as I proceeded to the Music building.

I didn’t even eat very much Malt-O-Meal as a kid, yet it is a smell and food product I associate with my childhood. My mother was much more likely to prepare plain old oatmeal. I know I consumed that particular grain in large quantities, especially when it was made into granola — but that is the subject of a rhetoric session for another day.

I did, however, get my fair share of Malt-O-Meal. To this day I wonder exactly what it is. I remember watching Annie and thinking, when the evil woman who ran orphanage said, “You’re not having hot mush today,” that surely she was referring to Malt-O-Meal. I imagined that when Oliver Twist held out his bowl and humbly pleaded for “more,” he was asking for more Malt-O-Meal. Any unidentifiable mixture, not quite solid and not quite soup, was, in my mind, Malt-O-Meal.

I never ate Malt-O-Meal plain. Cinnamon and sugar — lots and lots of sugar — was my most frequent flavor. Fresh peaches were exceptionally rare; fresh strawberries even more so.

Today, given a choice, I would probably never buy Malt-O-Meal for myself. Give me oatmeal. Give me bran flakes or corn flakes or puffed wheat. But please don’t give me Malt-O-Meal.

And really, please, don’t give me Grape-Nuts, either. Please.

Tonight I had for-real sushi. Not fake crabmeat sushi from the student union, the real deal. It was fish and it was not cooked! And it was delicious!

I actually only ate a bit of fish. Most of my dish was eel, which, I am told, needs to be cooked.

So, if I’m sick tomorrow I will know why.

My friend Jerry and I have developed a tradition for ourselves here in Austin. Every Friday (almost) we go to a new restaurant for dinner and have an adventure! After dinner we always go to Amy’s Ice Cream.

Tonight’s adventure was Sushi Saké. The food is better than the website.

See some more photos from the Sushi Saké trip.

Tonight Jerry had her apartment-warming party/dinner. Mostly it was a dinner. The food was delicious, and Spanish. The four people present were all ITS employees, so we talked mostly about ITS stuff. I had fun.

See some photos from the party.

I like to eat.

So, I was standing in front of the microwave at work about fifteen minutes ago reading the instructions on the bottom of my frozen lunch. Even though I’ve cooked this kind of frozen lunch a half-dozen times, I was reading the instructions, because that’s what I do.

I’m glad I never have to worry about cooking at high altitudes.

The last step was, “Let stand in microwave 1 to 2 minutes.”

Yeah, right. I’m hungry and I am not going to wait “1 to 2 minutes” for my lunch that has already taken four minutes to thaw and cook in that strange machine.

A week ago I was invited to a dinner with the Relief Society presidency and the Elders Quorum presidency of my ward. It was to occur today and it was to be pot-luck — which, as an aside, is a very interesting word when looked up in the Oxford English Dictionary.

Accordingly, I had a week to decide on and prepare something to bring with me to the pot-luck dinner of presidencies. I opened my trusty Jackson Family Cookbook and spied the recipe for “Impossible Pie (Crustless Quiche)”. I was certain this was to be my dish.

As the moment of truth approached, I surveyed my cupboards, and listed the ingredients I lacked. I walked to the grocery store and purchased, among other things, bacon, Swiss cheese, milk and an onion. I walked back.

The timing of the dinner forced me to serve the dish cold. Therefore I gathered the necessary tools and ingredients the night before and meticulously followed the recipe. I preheated to 400 degrees. I fried bacon. I grated cheese. I chopped onion. I beat eggs and milk and salt and pepper and Bisquick. I put it all together in a greased baking dish. I put it in the oven and waited.

Several tens of minutes and a few incredulous instant messages later —

(19:12:21) Jerry: so what have u been up to?
(19:12:38) William: Working, and working. And cooking a quiche at the moment.
(19:12:43) William: But mostly working.
(19:12:50) Jerry: ur cooking?

— I removed a beautiful quiche from the oven and carefully placed it in the refrigerator. It smelled good.

Today I brought it to church and put it in the fridge there. After church I rode with Marc (the president) to the home of Tamara (the president). We ate dinner and everyone loved the quiche. I was so happy.

The end.