Skip to main content

Garlic's rant on mincing

A couple of weeks ago, I signed up for a daily writing prompt.  I figured it was a good way to make sure that I wrote every day and was challenged to look at different subjects.

Earlier this week the prompt was to write about something that is minced.  Since cooking is a life-giving passion, I immediately thought about garlic, but took it in a different direction:  from the point of view of the garlic.  The short ditty turned out somewhat mischievous and playful.

After talking with several people recently, it appears that there are several of us who could use some laughter, mirth and merriment.

lighthearted and cheeky

There are three key ingredients to most savory dishes in this household – salt pepper and garlic.  It’s like the Holy Grail to cooking.

Here’s my take on the subject:

Sure, I’m not quite round, sometimes a bit bulbous and my skin is rather papery, thin and fragile.  I peel rather easily, especially if I’ve taken a good smack on the board.  Why do the chefs always think they need to smack me around?  They sure don’t treat the tomatoes or pears like that – really, now!

My preference is roasting, all wrapped up and slathered with olive oil and placed in a toasty oven; much kinder, more gentle method of obtaining my flavor.  Even slicing me is preferable to the mincing that often occurs.

Oh, I know they want my pungency mingled in the whole pot, but you just try being stuffed into that uncomfortable contraption and then squeezed through those little bitty holes.  It’s like trying to squeeze into spanx that is two sizes too small.  Maybe that’s my sweet revenge.  I’ll give them my deliciousness.  They’ll eat more and we all know the results!  The spanx and jeans are now several sizes too small!

Hmmm…what savory supper is lurking, just waiting for me to be tossed in?  I will win this bulging battle!

Any reference to shape, size or papery skin is merely coincidental.  Enjoy your day.

Lighthearted and cheeky ~ Missy

If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, colleague, family member or even random acquaintance.






Comments

  1. Loved the lighthearted take on this and I love garlic.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Everything is way better with garlic. Missed you in class.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

the lights just clicked on

The lights just clicked on. The ones we hung outside last Friday when the day was bright and fair. Today it’s cloudy and cold. It’s dark earlier. So, the lights just clicked on.

It’s pretty. If I squint, the white fairy lights look like tiny gleaming stars. Bordering on gazing at an inky sky, dotted and specked with minute bursts of light.

Two Moravian stars with multi-faceted points hang. They sway with the breeze. Moving to the wind’s breathed music. They reflect in the open window; mirror images, star duets.

Santa arrives in a helicopter descent at the Old Mill. He sets up shop, elves and reindeer to join later. High fives, and shy giggles, the kids approach. Innocent, bright eyes wide open and hopeful.

It’s a magical and expectant season. It’s Advent.

Advent – the arrival of the awaited One – is more than my lights clicking on, the Moravian stars dancing and my grandkids’ wonder at the arrival of Santa. I love each of these experiences and the specialness of the memories.

A baby sh…

the quiet paradox

I'm a music girl, but I like the quiet. So, I live with this paradox. I see other enigmas in my life - some are trivial, others deserve attention.

Look at society. Our current culture is rife in a quagmire of nonsensical. We say we care and want to love, yet do nothing. Or, worse, we simply yammer on about how "somebody" really should be taking care of this or that. I'm guilty here. No stones are being cast.

Ergo, I turned off the music to sit in the quiet. What can be heard in the quiet is unreal; the birds waking up, the guy down the street is warming his truck, the slight ringing in my ears,  my thoughts. I can hear my thoughts instead of drowning them out with sound. Sound that I normally groove on.

When I hear my thoughts, I'm more aware of the paradox. Even as I sit, the furnace clicks off and the sound of the refrigerator is noticeable; a see-saw invasion to my soul searching and hearing.

My interlude with quiet is ending. The sun is pouring through the w…

excellent. how serious are you?

Have you been told you always say something? I have. Evidently, I respond with "excellent" and then ask two questions:

How serious are you? And, what's the vision?
Each could be asked independently of each other or in reverse order, stacked on each other. Answering one leads to the asking and answering of the other. I know, it sounds like a labyrinth conversation.

How serious are you? About a decision, about a change, about a direction or choice? If the answer is some laissez faire something, then nothing will occur. Serious action will not take place, and probably nothing will come of the thought. You see, the degree of seriousness creates movement. Movement, in turn creates a response.

I picture it like the proverbial mousetrap game - the dropped marble starts a chain of events.
What's the vision is directly tied to the serious question. The vision will determine the degree to which we seriously take things. A wishy-washy, obscured view doesn't require much. Howe…