Local Corn

There are a lot of things I love about Warren, including how he spells “Shabbes,” how he consistently upstages my cooking, that we disagree about almost every play we’ve ever seen, and that his blog post made me laugh out loud bunches of times.  

¡Hola, Philadelphia!

Bienvenidos a la primera publicación en español para 25×52.  Me parece apto porque comimos cosas con sabor latino esta semana.  Fue como si estuvimos en México.

. . . Wait I’m just getting word from the Republican Right that all communication in the United States must now be in English and that non-English communication is considered traitorous especially in light of the July 4th holiday.  Ok, let me tell you about shabbes then while I furtively eat my new Al-Qaida brand Middle Eastern hummus (now with more spiciness!)

Shabbes was lovely this week.  Having been out of the country for 2 weeks and being in shabbes withdrawal, it was nice to spend an intimate dinner with Marc, Miriam, and Ilana.  Miriam asked me what I wanted to make, and I said Corn Soup with a Roasted Corn Guacamole.  Around that, we came up with a border-crossing dinner of mouth-watering cuisine (don’t tell immigration).  The soup, I thought, was quite yummy and I don’t care if it’s 100 degrees out, I can eat soup year round.  Made with local corn and tomatoes from my garden, it was summer in a bowl (and for the kosher folks out there, you’ll notice that the soup is vegan/pareve which I thought was a nice bonus).

Miriam whipped up a dinner of fish tacos (my favorite!) with rice, beans, and a perfectly spicy chipotle mayonnaise.  Marc, ever the mixologist, made a drunk version of an Arnold Palmer, which I think might also describe the real Arnold Palmer.  Fore!

For dessert, Ilana brought the ingredients for do-it-yourself strawberry shortcake.  Let’s just say that some of us got rather whipped cream happy.

As far as dinner conversation, most of that is simply unprintable, but it did revolve around the following themes:

1)      Anti-Semitism: What is it?  What do we do about? Where does it come from? (Always a dinner favorite)
2)      Sex: What is it?  What do we do about?  Where does it come from?
3)      Why is the house next to Miriam and Marc falling down?
4)      Jews: What’s up with them?

We also played a round of my personal new favorite shabbes game: Pitch that reality show.  Everyone around the table has to go around the table and pitch a new reality show and the table then votes on whether or not we think it is or could be a real show.  Marc offered the inspired entry: Potluck!  Here’s how it works:

Contestants each bring a dish of the same size.  Everyone takes a plate of the same size (a small plate), and fills it up, and eats it. You’re not allowed to eat from your own contribution.  Then people go for seconds, and so on.  When your contribution is gone, you can leave the room, and come back the next week.  If you ever can’t finish what’s on your plate, you lose — kicked off the show.

Ilana meanwhile pitched “America’s Best Pants” and I pitched “Is That My Pussy?” both conceits which I think need no explanation to the readers.  (Animal Channel just picked up the latter.)

By 11pm, after much merriment, drinking, eating (including whipped cream shots), it was time to call it a night.  I biked away into the soupy night.

The rest of shabbes was pretty laid back.  I stayed in all on Saturday as it was too hot to go out.  (Yay for central a/c).  I was going to go to Longwood Gardens on Saturday night to see Broadway great Barbara Cook sing, but they canceled it because of the heat.  Who cares that it’s 102 degrees out and that Barbara Cook is 85 years old and weighs 300 lbs?  (When asked if she wanted to perform that night, Cook said “F$&k that shit!” Well said, Marian the Librarian, well said.)

So ended shabbes and now the week begins.  For those of you looking for shabbes plans next week, Heymish is meeting (find us on Facebook!).

Adiós!

So next time you come over, you won’t be surprised.

 

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