The Big Foist

Yesterday Emily and I had some people over, for really the first time ever in this apartment. I've never been big on having parties, or get-togethers, or really anything like that, so it all makes me a little nervous. The last time I had a party (was it five years ago? damn.) it was marked by, among other things, a lot of weird tension, many arguments, things that came close to fistfights, a horrifying game of spin-the-bottle that somehow only involved people with really bad tattoos, and some guy with his shirt off walking up and down the block with an eight-foot-long metal bar in his hand, yelling at passers-by. I was depressed, and I drank a lot of port wine, and I moved out immediately afterwards, ending up sleeping in between guitar amps in the basement kitchen at Dave and Zack's house.

But this wasn't a party, it was just some people coming over brunch. And that's something we can handle. Also, I don't drink as much as I used to, and when I do now I'm much more witty and urbane than I was five years ago. All that said, I did kind of freak out while I was cooking, and I burned my fingers on the stove, but luckily Emily saved me. So thanks.

My recipe for hash-

a handful or two of beets
some potatoes, all kinds, sweet, red, gold, etc.
2/5 of a large onion, chopped irregularly
two cloves of the garlic that's been sitting in the fridge for two months, not the garlic you just bought, because you can't find it
a forearm-sized chunk of yucca
a bit of soy-based fake meat product
and a couple more beets

Boil, steam, bake and/or fry all of the starchy things. Together or separate, it's really your call. Fry the fake meat. Forget about the frying fake meat while you're burning yourself on the stove because the beets you were steaming overflowed the pot and covered everything in blood-red water and you panicked and grabbed the stove grate with your bare hand even though you know, intellectually, that it's been basically in a fire for an hour. Yell out, then stare accusatorily at your very patient and sweet girlfriend. Follow her directions re: your burned dumb hand. Remember the fake meat, dump it on a plate before it's totally burnt. Cook onions until they're brown, dump in starchy stuff, and start sprinkling on random seasonings and herbs. Wait until someone who actually knows how to cook comes over, then ask him to taste it and re-season it. Drink two bloody marys, some champagne, and a cup of coffee. Serve lukewarm, with some other stuff. Serves a lot.

Nobody will believe me when I say this, but I like washing dishes. It's satisfying, and soothing, and also has the added benefit of preventing an outbreak of fruit flies that force you to avoid your kitchen for months at a time, until the point where the fruit flies have taken over your kitchen and dining room and are threatening your living room, which is when you get a bottle of bleach and a hose and, hey, I guess cleaning out the sink really does get rid of those things. Who would've thought?

Music to wash dishes by:

Minutemen - The Big Foist
Bettye Lavette - I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got
The Pogues - Thousands are Sailing
Aretha Franklin - Never Grow Old

PS- On September 18th, 1850, Congress passed the Fugitive Slave Act, compelling "all good citizens" to assist federal marshals in the pursuit of escaped slaves, and assessing heavy fines and penalties for the crime of assisting an escaped slave.