Day 3: A Kitchen with Everything In Its Place

The Drawer

 

Somewhere in this kitchen, there is a grater or a mandoline. How else could she make grated carrot tempura? Or shred Napa cabbage for making dumplings. There is definitely no Cuisinart in this kitchen. I found evidence of a mandoline, its blades stored in a tin cookie box; the tin box buried in the drawer under a bounty of commercial grade paper towels and napkins accumulated from patronizing their favorite fast food establishments. But the body of the mandoline is nowhere to be found.  I open every drawer and cabinet. I open them again, and each time, it is chaos so organized, I can’t find anything.

I give up. We won’t have cabbage tonight.

This kitchen isn’t the kitchen I grew up in anymore. It’s been taken over by plastic bags, plastic take out containers, mini-wood flats the sushi gets packaged on, packets of soy sauce, plastic soy sauce saucers, paper coffee cups from the bank, more plastic bags and more plastic take out containers…All so neatly stacked. And stacked and stacked. I just don’t remember there being so much…stuff. Everywhere. I laugh when I open the mustard yellow oven door. “Does it still work” is so irrelevant. You could order take out faster than it would take to empty the storage oven. This just isn’t the same kitchen where mom made her amazing mac and cheese – rigatoni, chock full of ham, corn, shrimp; it would come bubbling out of the yellow oven, the white American cheese nicely browned. My affinity for white American cheese was sealed in that oven.

The Oven

 

Hanging from the window sill, just above the sink and next to the dish rack I find a vegetable peeler and a handheld grater. Obviously. Their place in this kitchen is the window sill. I have a go at the cabbage with the grater and I think I could have been more effective gnawing at the cabbage head with my teeth.

Nope, we won’t be having cabbage tonight.

It haunts me in my sleep. The mandoline is in the kitchen. Look with your hands, not your eyes.

First thing in the morning, I open the drawer and stare at the paper towel bounty. I reluctantly pull one pile out, then another, then another. You can tell by the way they lay mom likes to grab about 4-6 at a time. I grab more and finally, I grab it all out and throw the pile on the counter. I pull out a plastic bag of something, and another bag of something with a small soup ladle, and a peeler, and a bottle opener. Still. No. Mandoline. Arrrgh!

I start to stack the paper towels into straight piles and put them back in the drawer. What is in this plastic bag? Plastic soup ladle. Mandoline.

The Mandoline

 

PS – Don’t tell mom, I threw out about ¼ of the bounty. I mean, she won’t really notice. Right?

 

 

I Almost Lost Dad Today (Don't Leave the Keys in the Car)

I'm on the phone with my cousin this afternoon. It's been a while since we've caught up. I'm in the kitchen as it seems to have the least spotty reception. Mid-conversation, I hear the garage door open. Shit! I run over to the family room window to see if he's backing the car out. I figure with the pace I saw him backing the car out this morning, if I see the rear end of the RDX start poking out I can run down faster than he can get out of the garage. I see nothing. Listening to my cousin talk, I still see nothing several minutes later, so I return back to the kitchen. A few minutes later, I see Dad weed whacking the back yard. Good, he's getting some physical activity. He's still at it as I wrap up my call 40 minutes later.

Around 6:20 PM, I go look for Dad. I don't find him in the house. I go down to the garage and SHIT! The garage door is open and the car is gone! I run back upstairs and call him from my cell phone. And I can HEAR it ringing nearby which means he does not have his cell phone. WTF. Where did he go? When did he go and what if he gets lost? What if he can't remember how to brake like mom said the other day. Damn it. If he's lost AND he doesn't have his phone...how the hell am I going to find him without a car? If he calls I can Uber to him. Is there Uber in Montvale? But he can't call, unless he gets someone to help him. If he hits someone, I'm sure I'd get a call then. It's 6:28. There are still a few hours of daylight but if he doesn't show or somehow call by 7:00 I'm going to have to call the police. Where would he go? It's Sunday, the bank is closed. Did he need something? Is he checking in one of the tenants? This is SO f'ed up!

At about 6:35 I see the RDX come down the street. I stand at the garage, like a parent catching their child break curfew, steal the car and  watching them try to sneak back inside the house. I'm watching him fumbling inside the car, at the dashboard, with the door partly open. He's trying to turn off the headlights. I tell him they're set on auto. He went to get gas, because I said earlier there was less than 1/4 tank. He thought he'd be right back but got lost on his way back. As if he's not feeling bad enough about getting lost, I have to chastise him for being SO irresponsible. He knows exactly why mom doesn't let him drive the car, yet he does it the moment she's not around! And not only does he not tell me he's going out, he doesn't even have his cell phone with him. It's inevitable he will get lost while driving. But no one can help him if he doesn't tell anyone where he's going, and if he can't call for help. Dad knows he made a mistake, several mistakes, but unlike your kids, I don't think he'll remember the lesson next time.

So, I think we won't leaving the car keys in the console anymore. And I should probably do a closer inspection of the car to make sure there's not any damage he's not telling me about.

It's going to be a long week.