CHEESE IS A LIFE-STYLE CHOICE

The other morning my roommate disconsolately wailed that she had found weevils in the rice. So she was throwing all of it out. I could tell that she really wanted cooked rice to go with her stew for lunch.

The problem is, neither of us prepare rice anymore.
Rice is what you make when you share meals.
Our rice supply was from two years ago.
That tells you how long it's been.

We do still have supplies of other starchy things. Her penne pasta, packets of kongchaimien (noodles), and the bean thread. As well as boxes of cereal.
My various thick and thin rice stick noodles, tagliatelle, farfalle, and cheesits.
I know. You're saying that cheesits are NOT a meal-time starch.
But politely I must disagree.
Think of them as instant pasta with the casein, salt, and grease already built in.

At some point I'll see if I can bake them with cheese, cream, and garlic added.
It's what you would do when you come home late and don't really want to eat.


WHY DOES THIS CAN RATTLE WHEN I SHAKE IT?

All of this indicates that eating habits around the apartment have been markedly eccentric in the years since the relationship ended. Consequently I'll probably have to throw out many items that are past their prime.
How old are those cans of coconut milk? Haven't prepared Indonesian food in over two years. The jars of tomato sauce? Probably at least as old. Those wonderful dried Mexican chiles are almost certainly no longer good either, and some of those tins of anchovies and cans of fire-roasted rajas de chile verde might as well be chucked too.
Indian pickles will surely survive the zombie apocalypse.
Those jars of jam are probably fermenting. Out.
The marmalade I'll keep. All three kinds.

I can't have buttered toast in the bath if there is no marmalade!

The grits stay. I bought those only a few months ago.
Of course I'm the only one who eats them.
Same goes for the spicy linguiça and the container of chiles en escabeche that went into the refrigerator a few days ago.
Not her taste.

We still share a few things. Per ancient tradition I buy the milk, bumwad, kitchen paper, and coffee, we both buy tea, eggs, and various household necessities.
And we split the cheese.

Seriously, one should not eat cheese more than three times a day.
I've tried. It has consequences.

Evenso, I'll start adding funds to the bowl on top of the teevee for cheese.
It's proven near-impossible to get her to take money out of that supply for expenditures that she believes only benefit her or are extravagant, and despite my urging she keeps spending far too much of her own money on things that really are for both members of the household.
Guilt, generosity, and a stiff sense of pride.

I'll persuade her that cheese is a household supply.
Woman, buy cheese. You know I like cheese.
I ate some of YOUR cheese the other day.
Get us good cheese. Your choice.

The California Cheese Board would approve.
They also want you to be happy.
And well fed.

Think of cheese as a substitute for rice.


AFTER WORD

In case you're wondering, I've had rice every week for the last two years.
Lunch in the financial district, plus eating alone in C'town.
Just haven't cooked any at home.


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