Monday, August 13, 2012.
The Finely-Tuned Appestat. What's On Your Beans?
Whoever coined the word "appestat" was onto something big. The shoving together of the front and back halves respectively of "appetite" and "thermostat" explains the concept perfectly. It's that reflex built into our bodies, somewhere between the brain and the stomach, that tell us it's time to eat.
I think this mind-GI tract connection passes through the palate. And explains why we don't just register hunger, but also a desire for a certain kind of food.
The appestat clearly responds to manual control. You can figuratively walk up to it and change its setting by thinking of something specific to eat. Next thing you know, you want it.
Today's radio show proved all this, and not for the first time. Once a year (on no particular day, just when I happen to think of it, usually on a Monday) we assay the State Of The Red Beans Topping Art. What do you put on your plate of beans and rice? It always makes a lively show, one that usually comes up with a few weird ones.
This year's edition was extraordinarily busy. It fielded all the classics--hot sausage, andouille, Tabasco, fried chicken, ham, green onions, that kind of stuff.
But callers seemed to think I was looking for the strange. We got it, with a tide in the direction of sweet additives. The first came from a man who's sprinkled a teaspoon of sugar over his red beans all his life. Later, we heard about the joys of maple syrup on beans. Then molasses. I can kind of see the latter, since there's molasses in barbecue sauce, and barbecue sauce on beans is not bad at all. Several people mentioned that today.
I expected that at least one person would claim to put mayonnaise on his beans. But three people? Two said they used yellow mustard. The people who put ketchup on everything (they are more numerous than you know) put ketchup on beans, too.
The most complex recipe started with melted cheese on a hot plate, topped with the rice and beans, then chopped tomatoes. It's all mixed up, she said. I'll say.
We reached the outer limits when a man said that he puts his red beans on a length of French bread, covers them with grated cheese, and then spreads grape jelly on the bread. I am almost positive this was a crank call. But if he's laughing about it, I have done my job. Entertainment is my main product.
All this talk about red beans set an unmistakable reading on my appestat. Nothing would do but to have my lifetime default Monday dinner. The appestat even specified that I go to the Acme.
I skipped the grilled oysters we always get, and substituted a side salad. (The Acme needs to rework its Italian salad dressing. Twice in a row now, I registered blandness.)
Then a nice plate of beans with hot sausage. Before digging in, I tried some of the ideas I'd heard on the radio. The sugar made no difference that I could discern. I like the barbecue sauce. Not the ketchup. I can't bring myself to do the mayo--that triggers a gag reflex. (Which, fortunately, is nowhere near the appestat). Pickle relish: not bad.
Thank goodness that's done for another year.
Mary Ann and the kids are in Paris now. They had to go there, they say, because flights departing London are all full, and they're flying standby. That is what I would call a convenient reality. They say they will be back tomorrow, if everything works out the way MA wants. Better them than me.
It's over five years since a day was missed in the Dining Diary. To browse through all of the entries since 2008, go here.
