Mushrooms

Yesterday at work, one of the gals asked, "Is your wife coming home after work tonight?" And let's face it, the question is loaded with connotations.

When I stared back at her blankly, she offered, "Doesn't your wife hang out with her friends on Thursday night and you and the dawg have boy's night at home?"

That's right. The wife does periodically hang out with her friends one night every couple weeks or so. That usually means beer, bourbon, cigars, steak and war movies for me.

Part of me wishes that the last sentence was an exaggeration but, for good or ill, that's how it usually goes down.

"No", I replied, "she is coming home tonight". But it got me thinking . . . .

One of us had to go to the store anyway to pick up some dinner as the larder was empty. To top it off, I have been working 12 hour days this week and one of the ways I reward myself is with food. So why not make it steak night?

The cue at the meat counter was only three people deep and I settled on a couple of boneless rib-eyes. The butcher started to help the woman next to me and the customer explained that the man at the other end of the counter had been there first. He protested and she insisted. I love it when that happens. Decent folk behaving decently.

When it came the woman's turn she asked for ground beef. "Wadda you makin?" asked the butcher.

"Homemade hamburgers with sauteed mushrooms and Swiss cheese" she explained.

"D'ere's nothin like a good homemade burger" replied the butcher.

It came my turn and I requested the steaks. I picked up a couple more items and headed to the checkout.

I let a man with two items go ahead of me. It was wrapping up to be a truly pleasant trip to the store after an interminably long day.

As I was paying, a lady with colored extensions in her hair, jabbering on a cell phone in one hand and sucking down what appeared to be a Starbucks caramel frozen something-or-other exclaimed "EXCUSE ME" as she pushed past me, shoving my shopping cart out of the way. As if my presence in an orderly line at the checkout was somehow a personal affront to her.

Whatever.

What was her big hurry, you may ask? Apparently she need to get to the exit doors where she stood directly in every one's way aimlessly staggering, jabbering and sucking.

Sheesh.

But none of that is what I wanted to share with you . . .

What I wanted to share with you is that while the steaks were grilling, the potatoes were nuking and the mushrooms were sauteing, I was surprised to remember the very first time I had ever had sauteed mushrooms.

I must have been about 7 years old and my mom had taken my brother and I to the Farmer's Market in Los Angeles. Afterwards, we went to a Hamburger Hamlet where I ordered a burger with sauteed mushrooms. I have loved them ever since.

When I related the story to my wife, she was shocked to realize that she remembers the first time she had sauteed mushrooms as well. She was about the same age and an older neighborhood girl had come over to hang out.

They wanted a snack but couldn't find anything so the older gal whipped up some sauteed mushrooms. My wife has loved them ever since as well.

Weird. Who would think that 30 years later you would remember the first time you had something as ordinary as a sauteed mushroom?

By the way, the bourbon and coke, steaks, mushrooms, potatoes, wine (instead of beer) and ice cream for dessert was great. We watched Second Hand Lions which has a lot of gunfire so it was sort of like "boys night" after all.

I skipped the cigar.