Food Interrupted Chapter 6: One World. One Love. One Dish.
15 Jul 2010, Posted by Cape Town Girl in BFFs, CTG, cape town, characters, food interrupted, girl stuff, lifestyle, south africa, 1 Comments
Puppies,
I am simply unmoved thrilled by the events of Sunday night my darlings. To watch China and Australia qualify to play each other in their FIRST tennis final in recent history was a drunken an emotional moment for me and for a handful of several trillion people.
And petals, the heroic battle of these two cities is not the only example of globalization around at the moment – no no! There are wonderful things afoot my darlings, wonderful opportunities for us to once again run barefoot and stark naked with a crazed amphetamine tilt to our heads carefree through the woods of our tomorrows.
The entire WORLD darlings, the WORLD is coming closer together darlings. Darlings, the bloody planet is shrinking and crumpling in on itself its getting so cosy with itself. The bloody stars darling, the bloody stars in that great big milky stain in the bloody sky darling, they’re coming together. It’s bloody continental drift darlings, in reverse. It’s, it’s drift continental, darlings.
And cherubs, what really excited Mummy about the closeness of her inter-continental brothers and sisters darlings, is the amount of wine I can get from other cities the sharing of information, the sharing of knowledge, the sharing of sexually transmitted diseases emotional resources. And so to celebrate this, this shrinkwrappage of the earth, I give unto you my endless, all consuming debt newest creation, honouring the planet and her peoples:
I give you: We-are-the-World-We-are-The-Children,-We Are A-Soy Steak-on-Cowboy-Bean with- Tomato-Salsa-Platter, So-Let’s-Start-Giving.
How fantastic, you crow, what makes such a heavenly treat?
A couple of Porterhouse steaks, trimmed of all fat
(we must be a healthy world populace darling, we can’t run toward each other in a field of poppies with gay abandon if we’re wheezing from the extra 25 kilos we’re carrying with our own breasts hitting us in the face one at a time with metronome succession now can we?)
Soya sauce
1 x can Red kidney beans
1 x can Lentils
Tabasco sauce
Fresh chilli
Black pepper
Good quality sliced salami (that means not the pink stuff with the green peppercorn lodged in it like bullet holes because you were too lazy to go to the deli)
2 x Onion
Garlic
Peppers, red and yellow
Stock of any sort (I prefer Fond, but then again, I also am fond of Argyle underwear and suppositories, so, each to their own)
2 x fresh tomatoes,
Sweet basil
Vinegar
Tell me how darling!
Place steaks in a bowl, pour soy sauce all over them (that one’s for you China! Mwah!) and allow to vibe.
Cut up an onion and the peppers, open a can of lentils and beans and gooi all into a hot-ish pan. When I say hot-ish, I mean, I can put my hand over it. If I were to touch it I would be in pain, but not as much pain as for example, if said hand was being slowly ingested by a python. That would indicate a slightly hotter pan.
Add about half a cup of your stock in and allow bean mix to vibe alongside already vibing steaks.
Toss into pan extra things like Tabasco, or chilli, or both, along with garlic and liberal, hippy-like tossings of black pepper.
Cut salami up into little squares and with restraints, tie your one hand to a spice rack or other solid installation to try to limit your premature consumption of aforementioned salami.
Into the pan goes the salami. You will notice that the beans are getting quite soft, so, after wriggling free from your makeshift handcuffs, get a potato masher and mash the beans mix into…well…mash.
Turn the heat down and turn attention to steaks.
Panfry steak in a little olive oil and a dash of red wine.
Chop fresh tomatoes and fresh onion and blend in a cap-ful of vinegar, some salt and sweet basil.
Set steak atop a serving of bean mash and serve with a little of the salsa.
Unless of course you are unable to serve at all, as you set the pan to python and were too late with your restraints, meaning you are now very badly burnt, but still alive, curled up at the bottom of the bean pan, trying not to break bits of your charred self off while humming Home On The Range.
Excuse me darlings, I’m off to befriend my neighbours. I think they’re from Pretoria!
Frances
