For the past couple of days I had a desire for cabbage. Specifically the kind of cabbage that you cook for so long you get the added bonus of pot liquor.
For those of you that might make assumptions on my sobriety, pot liquor is the liquid that the essence of what was in the pot with the cabbage such as onions, green peppers, potatoes, garlic, a touch of oil, water, salt and pepper.
If you do this right you get to dip bread into the pot liquor and savor everything again in a new form. If you toss in smoked pork neck bones that will elevate you to another level of consciousness.
Plus add a couple more pounds to the frame. Because you can't cook 1/8th of a pot of cabbage. You have to do the whole thing. Which means that I will wind up eating the whole pot.
I can live with it. But sometimes I would like to share a pot of cabbage with someone. Some of the people I know are fast food hit it and quit folks.
By the time I tell them I have it ready they are stuffed with sodium laced Double Downs. You can't take it to a barbecue cuz it isn't BBQ food. Cole Slaw, yes. Hot Cabbage, no.
Trust me, I'm not suffering. It is just that the cabbage is a metaphor for sitting around a table talking and laughing in real time.
I'm mourning missing out on thinking, non-hostile debates and kidding. Of memories uplifted for another look and the measurement of time that has gone by.
Sure this will happen. Cabbage has nothing to do with it. It just means that now folks are standing and talking at gourmet food trucks or finding a hidden gem of a non-chain restaurants.
Few of us cozy up anymore at a communal table and just talk. And eat. Then talk some more.
I'm going to need hot sauce to get me through this moment.