Heat'n'Serve Dinner from The Culinary Mercenary August 2004

Tomato and red pepper gazpacho, lemon crabcakes and field greens with citrus vinaigrette

The Culinary Mercenary is a moonlighting country club chef who delivers meals on wheels every Tuesday to anyone with 23 bucks and an inclination to eat what is essentially leftovers out of Gladware containers. If one wishes to dine without effort, this is the midway point between frozen pizza and strapping on the feedbag at a mid-level bistro. The main drawback is that the Planets of Laziness rarely align such that Tuesday is the day I actually need a culinary mercenary.

Sadly, he made the gazpacho with canned tomatoes. There is just no call for that. Not in August. Not ever.

Culinary Mercenary Crabcake August 2004

Just prior to this particular Tuesday, having forgotten that a week earlier I'd put in my Culinary Mercenary order for this dish, I'd made my own crabcakes and had been eating them for two days. My grandmother, if she had ever heard of crabcakes, which I doubt because Methodists from Michigan rarely place themselves in situations involving ocean-going crustaceans or any other kind of pleasure, might have said, "you're going to turn into a crabcake!"

Sadly, the Culinary Mercenary put celery in this crabcake. I know I do not need to explain to you why this is wrong.

Gerber Daisy Centerpiece August 2004

I can't even discuss flower-free dining. The mere thought of it is like an 8" Henckel twisting in my liver.

At the moment I'm going through a Gerber daisy phase. Some may scoff. They may feel strongly that the more melodramatic arrangements--birds of paradise or tropical ginger: edgy, flamboyant blooms with a dark side--more precisely complement so stimulating an occasion as dinner. They may find the happy, uncomplicated Gerber daisy assortment a bit too much like eating with Katie Couric. However, I appreciate the Gerber's inner resolve, that it can be that happy, that uncomplicated, without compunction or apology. I find that it mirrors exactly the theme of my current campaign to free the world's inner geek from the shackles of hep cynicism.

Onion Bagel with Cream Cheese August 2004

Onion bagels from the supermarket are just regular bagels over which have been sprinkled dehydrated grated onions. These dehydrated onions fall off the bagel when you cut it, and get all over the counter. Some of them are gummy, so when you go to wipe them away, they leave onion-streaks. They also break loose in the toaster, where they burn, stinking up the kitchen.

Bagels in general are a painful proposition. In the first place, they are heavy, and have little flavor. In the second place, there is no cream cheese application method that does not cauterize the fingers. In the third place, it is inevitable that some of the cream cheese falls through the oubliette, or hole, onto the computer keyboard.

It is strange to think that such a thing could have any sort of appeal. But there it is.