Monday, July 6, 2009. Red Beans And Detritus. Mary Ann decided to make a pot of red beans today. Her motivation was suspect. She cleaned out the refrigerator and freezer and found herself with a fantastic amount of near-garbage. She can get rid of a lot of it through the agency of the dogs' seemingly insatiable appetites. But even the big black Lab from down the street--the one who has become so comfortable with us that he comes inside to sleep, and almost never goes back to his real home--choked on the quality and sheer bulk of this stuff.
There was no escape for the human members of the family from the onslaught of the leftovers, either. The red beans began with a new bag of Camellias. But the pot included some soft old onions, limp celery, little carrots from who knows when (a lot of them) and what was left of that Cajun sausage I grilled on the Fourth of July. I kept my eye on the bean pot and added my own touches to it.
By dinnertime, it was ready. And very good. Carrots and beans are friendly companions. The hot sausage was perfectly in place, too. The rice was leftover brown rice, cooked to death a long time ago--not ideal, but Mary Ann observed that I was doing my part to eat through this moraine of surplus food, and pleased. Few things tickle her more than watching her squirreled-away food being eaten. My own hard-wired imperatives were satisfied by my eating red beans on Monday. And by dislodging the block of ice that form in the bottom of the freezer if it goes too long without being emptied.
