I am not negligent, I swear. Just incredibly busy.
I originally wrote this for the Multiple Mentality podcast.
Unfortunately, it's not the lead-in, 'cos there's lots going on in the world more important than noodles, but if you can't bring yourself to sit patiently through the first bit of the podcast, which is quality stuff even if it isn't me, my section starts at 10:26 into it. You can listen by going to this link.
Here's the transcript of my 'cast, for those of you who aren't into waiting ten and a half minutes to hear the postnasal-drippy-reformed-smokerlike dulcet tones of my voice:
"Before we begin, the Last Girl on Earth was charged with passing the following message on to me whilst she was filming one of her world-renowned Streets of New York Movie Extravaganzas:
"Golfwidow! Multiple Mentality rocks! Put me in your podcast, mama!"
"Well, all right, then. I wish I had your name so I could give you credit, but thanks for thinking we rock.
"And now ... the noodles.
"The other night, it was insanely hot, so for dinner I tossed some cold pasta with peanut butter, sesame oil, fresh ginger, a pinch of crushed chili, cilantro, soy sauce, honey, and lime juice, and served it cold with sliced cucumber.
"This impromptu combination not only soothed my hunger and my desire not to cook or eat anything hot, but my tired soul. As I relaxed after dinner with the dregs of my beer, feeling the vague push of hydraulics and knowing I was going to have to get up soon, but not yet, I started thinking about names for such a recipe, and my mind, as it so often does, began a mad free-association, so I just said, "The hell with it," and sat back to watch the show.
"First, my mind took the two main flavors, peanuts and sesame, and pointed out to me that they share their names with two of my childhood passions: the comic strip Peanuts and the children's television program Sesame Street.
"From there, my mind pointed out that I shouldn't refer to either Peanuts or Sesame Street as childhood passions, since I still adore both of them and can no longer by any stretch of the imagination be considered a child, unless you count my inability to stifle my snickers when I hear inadvertent sexual or potty references, particularly during staff meetings.
"Then my mind said, 'Why do you like Peanuts and Sesame Street so much, even though you're all grown up now?'
"So my mind turned its attention to this subject and pondered briefly, and came up with the friendship factor.
"For instance, Peppermint Patty and Marcie, from the Peanuts comic, have, really, nothing in common. Patty sleeps in class, is an all-around great athlete, and is famous for jumping to conclusions and running off at the mouth. Marcie is bookish, doesn't seem to understand or even like sports, and is unusually formal, calling Charlie Brown 'Charles' and Peppermint Patty 'Sir.'
"They don't even wear the same shoes -- Marcie wears the standard comic-strip shoes with scribbled laces; Patty wears sandals pretty much year-round, unless there's snow on the ground or she's ice-skating.
"It doesn't matter that I can't understand why they're friends. They just are.
"On Sesame Street, everyone seems to be friends of some nature. Even Muppets of different colors, species, ethnicities, and religions get along with all of the other Muppets -- and all of the humans. The exception is Oscar the Grouch and, unlike many of the mean-spirited humans we encounter in the World Outside Sesame Street, he's equal opportunity. No one group is singled out for his prejudices; he hates everyone the same.
"So welcome to my mind, where cold noodles turn into a look at friendship and thoughtfulness.
"My best friend, the woman who knows where all my corpses are buried and, likewise, with the location of whose corpses I am equally familiar (oh, the grammaranity!) has held the coveted 'hetero-lifemate' position in my heart for over twenty years. She is two years older than I. Her youngest child is the same age she was when we first met.
"My closest friend at work is a man with whom I connect on some strange wavelength that causes the two of us nearly as much alarm as it causes to passers-by and eavesdroppers, who hear our outbursts of brain-confetti and don't know whether to back away slowly or to call for help in the form of white-jacketed attendants.
"My husband, for all of his not really understanding what goes on in my strange little world, is the only person who cares enough to attempt to do so consistently, and for that, I am grateful. It almost makes up for all the expensive household stuff he breaks. Not quite, but almost.
"My mother holds the dubious distinction of being the person in the universe whose opinion I hold in the highest respect. Not because she's my mom, but because she's a genius who always knows the answer, or some reasonable facsimile thereof.
"Thanks to the Internet, I've also met a number of people I'd never have encountered otherwise. For instance, if I ever go to New Zealand, I can't guarantee I've got a place to lay my head down, but I know someone will buy me a beer. I don't know that that would have been the case had it not been for the Internet.
"I would say that these are the people who keep me sane, but the jury's still pretty much out on that one.
"Recently I joined a writers' group calling themselves 'Sister-Friends', which is precisely the sort of environment I tend to despise.
"I did not want to be part of a bunch of women writing about 'women's issues.'
"I joined because I was invited to do so by a woman whose writing I really admired on its own merits, and I joined under the stipulation that, should the discussion get uncomfortable or ugly at any time, I was taking my young ass out of there.
"So far, discussion has ranged from the serious to the silly, with occasional bursts of Lifetime-Network sappiness and the inevitable ya-ya-ness that just happens when a bunch of women are discussing things that we all seem to have in common.
"The important bit is what's not happening. If there has been any dissent at all, I've missed it. We seem to have attracted a wide range of writers who aren't afraid to speak their minds, yet are committed to thinking before speaking. I can't tell you how refreshing it is to belong to a forum full of thoughtful people, who may be feeling bitchy but aren't taking it out on each other, and how much this diffuses some of the bullshit that one encounters on a day-to-day basis, whether online, in the store, at work, or just by turning on the television and watching the news.
"Thinking before speaking. Lord, I'd love to see that one catch on someday.
"Screw buying the world a Coke. What the universe needs is a bowl of cold noodles with peanut and sesame sauce. Beer optional."
P.S. I've had a request for the noodle recipe.
Unfortunately, I didn't measure anything. Also, I don't know exactly how much leftover pasta I started with. I just threw stuff in and kept tasting. That is how I get most of my wonderful recipes, which I am then never able to recreate.
Here's what I did; I don't know if it'll be of any use or not. You can try.
If you don't like spicy, leave out the chili. And you might want to go easy on the ginger. I won't tell. What happens in the kitchen stays in the kitchen.
(Plus, for what it's worth, when I originally recorded the podcast, I forgot to mention that I had also put in a clove of garlic. This is why I'm not Rachael Ray, kids.)
Friendship Noodles
- 2 heaping spoonfuls crunchy peanut butter. I don't know what size the spoon was. Big, but it fit into the jar. I know that's not helpful.
- Dark sesame oil
- Small piece fresh ginger, crushed and minced finely
- 1 clove garlic, crushed and minced finely
- Pinch of crushed red chili flakes
- Small handful of cilantro, chopped
- Dark soy sauce
- Honey
- Juice of 1/2 lime
- Somewhat less than 2 pounds but probably a little more than 1 pound spaghetti, linguini, or other long pasta, cooked and drained. (Cold leftovers are fine.)
- 1/2 English cucumber, sliced thinly on the bias
- Place peanut butter in a large mixing bowl and microwave on low power/defrost for 20 seconds, just long enough to make it easier to stir. Lick peanut butter spoon whilst waiting.
- Drizzle in a little dark sesame oil and stir thoroughly. Taste and adjust. I think I might have used a total of two teaspoons.
- Add ginger and garlic.
- Add crushed chili flakes, stir, and taste. I didn't use much. Less than 1/4 teaspoonful.
- Add cilantro, stir, and taste. My "small handful" yielded about a tablespoonful of freshly chopped cilantro, and that was enough for me.
- I put in 1/2 packet of soy sauce from the takeout place, tasted it, and decided that was enough. I think those packets hold a tablespoonful.
- I used three squirts of honey from the squeeze bottle, but I have arthritis in my hands, so you might only need to squeeze twice.
- Add lime juice and stir, then add the cooked and drained (or cold leftover) pasta to the bowl and toss till evenly coated.
- Serve with sliced cucumber.
Probably made about four servings, but I ate one human-sized portion and That Man of Mine polished off the rest, so who knows.
