The Bok Choi Countdown

(If that title made you hear the song "Final Countdown" by Europe in your head, + 5 points.  If it made you see/hear this, +1,000,000 points forever.  You are the winner of the blog!!  Ding ding ding!!)

So here’s a tip for those who, like me, suffer from C.V.A.*  Apparently, admitting in a public forum that you are frequently reluctant to eat various forms of vegetables turns everyone around you into your mom.  

I always thought that kind of regretful exhortation that was my mom’s response to my frequent distaste (“I wish you liked vegetables…”) was a specifically maternal tic.  Like sitcom moms telling their daughters to sit up straight or get their hair out of their eyes.

But apparently, you don’t have to have biologically generated the C.V.A.-sufferer in order to have that kind of reaction to their condition.  Because ever since I outed myself as a Person Who Would Rather Not Eat Vegetables, it would appear that EVERYONE has something to say about it...

It mainly involves telling me that if THEY made me (insert questionable vegetable), I would like it.  To which I trot out my tired response: If I didn’t like beets when I ate at The Herbfarm, what makes you think you can do better than Jerry Traunfeld?  (Some people, however, do not see this as a conversation-ender, they see it as a gauntlet being thrown down.)

I’m pretty disappointed in everyone’s maturity and balanced nutrition. I didn’t know I had those kind of friends.  

So anyway, you people who-outgrew-being-six, here’s some news:  I bought some baby bok choi yesterday.  

Since I’ve already shared one secret shame, I might as well share another: thank goodness you can compost vegetables in the yard waste bins in Seattle because I can’t even TELL you how many times I have bought some vegetable with the best intentions to make myself eat something other than salad greens, raw carrots and the occasional radish, only to have it wither away in the crisper drawer because I was too busy/distracted/disorganized to actually use it before if went bad.

And every time it happens, I feel guilty about all the waste – food, my money, the resources it took to grow and transport the thing – and about my inability to get it together.

So here I am, once again, with baby bok choi aging in the fridge.  We – the bok choi and I – are on day two.  This is a particularly challenging time for a Bok Choi Countdown as I’m working all of my 64 jobs every day this week.

But I am determined that I will a) finally season my spanking new wok and b) use said wok and the baby bok choi to make some of my very own special recipe: Effort Bowl.  (I was under the impression that what became known as “Effort Bowl” was actually a pretty easy dish.  But that’s what my friend President of the Debate Club called it when I made that meal for her.  The fact that “Effort” was the defining characteristic of what I thought was like my easy weeknight supper made me wonder if part of why I don’t cook very often is because the stuff I make is way more complicated than I am thinking it is. If and when I actually do this, I’ll provide the recipe for Effort Bowl so that you can decide for yourself.)

Will the wok finally get seasoned?  Will the baby bok choi get et or wind up wilted and shaming in the crisper drawer?  Tune in again to find out!

* Chronic Vegetable Ambivalence - I'm petitioning to have it added to the DSM. 

Comments

[The Nicest Ever Person]

What about vegetables surrounded by something that isn't a vegetable? Like, how about latkes made out of zucchini with parmesan all around them and applesauce and sour cream all over them? Tastes just like cake.

[Leslie Seaton]

I will pretty much eat anything if you put enough cheese or sour cream on it. You could probably wave some zucchini in the direction of a dairy cow and it would make me feel more kindly towards the zucchini. But some part of me feels like that would be cheating.

Some other part of me is stunned that I managed to spell zucchini correctly without having to actually refer to anything else. In addition to CVA, I also have CVMS - Chronic Vegetable Misspelling Syndrome. That's how deep my ambivalence is. I couldn't spell broccoli right on the first try with a gun to my head.