Friday, March 07, 2008

Making Amends

Shannon, who works at the Herb, is a really really nice person. She's got a lovely smile and employs it generously. But every time I see her, I feel a twinge of guilt.

See, ages, I mean years and years, ago, I promised her my recipe for pizza dough.

"It's easy!" I said. "Only a few ingredients!" I said. "I can rattle it off right now!" And then proceeded to, but got mucked up over how many cups of flour. Wisely, she said, "Terrific! How 'bout you check and write it down and bring it in sometime?"

Oh, oh of course. I would love to.

I actually mentioned my guilt to her about a year ago. We ended up in the same crowd of people drinking beer, and I sheepishly admitted I'd been feeling badly about dropping the baton on the recipe. Surprisingly, she had not been pining away, secretly hating me for not giving her the golden key to Doughville. She, in fact, had forgotten, but would still be happy to have it.

"I'll write it down! I'll bring it in! For real this time! I promise!"

If I ever promise to write something down and bring it to you, or mail it to you, look me right in the eye and say "Thanks sweetie, but you're a liar." Because I will not do it. I will want to do it. I will think about doing it many many times for the next several years. I will feel bad that I seem incapable of doing it. None of this will prod me into actually doing it.

Tonight, doing my weekend shopping early, me and every fucking other body in the city, because of the Weather,* I ended up in Shannon's line. We chatted, pleasant small talk, nice smiles.

"So have you been writing much lately?"
"Well, blogging, mostly. Not much else, honestly."
"Really, a blog. What do you write about?
That rather stumped me. Brownies and g-spots? Eating giant fungus? Cute people?
"Enh, whatever happens."


Simple Pizza Dough

2.5 cups your favourite flour
1 tsp sugar
1 pkg active dry yeast
.5 tsp salt
1 c minus 2 tbsp hot tap water

In a medium bowl, combine flour, sugar, yeast and salt with a wooden spoon. Stir to mix, then add hot tap water (not too hot or it will kill the yeast!) and stir well. Use your hands when dough gets too stiff to stir with the spoon. Fold and flatten dough repeatedly, adding flour if mixture gets sticky. When dough is smooth, form it into a ball and place it in the bowl. Lightly oil it with a pastry brush to prevent sticking and cracking. Set the bowl in a sink containing 2 inches of hottest tap water. It can stay there as little as 10 mins and for up to 1 hour.

- reprinted, with commentary, from Vegetarian Express Lane Cookbook

*Okay. Motherfucker. Number Two bus, fuck you. Cabbies who waved back as you drove by, fuck you. And sorry to you, guy, who mistakenly but honestly tried to shark the cab that finally stopped after I'd given up on cabs, waited for 20 minutes for said Bus 2 with 15 other people and our 20 bags of big bulky groceries, and then gone back to trying to find a cab, to you, guy, my apologies for more firmly and often than was necessary saying "No, this is my cab. No, this is MY cab. No, this is MY CAB."


coyote said...

I have a wonderful word for you, ma'am.

Not about pizza dough (although coyotes have equally share-worthy crust recipes) nor about g-spots, nor bustards (hah), nor taxi sharks, but beautifully apt nevertheless: Velleity.

The official definition in the Oxford Big Word Thingy (Canine Edition) is okay -- something along the lines of "a low degree of volition not conducive to action" or "a slight wish".

But my Uncle Harry Coyote, a font of wisdom in all things, defines it at its simple best as "a thing we pretend to intend to do". It naturally goes without saying that I embrace countless velleities, with enthusiasm. Or would, if I ever got around to it.

Asteroidea Press said...

I *love* that word! Thanks so much for sharing. Feel free to share the pizza crust too, though.