Sandy Supposes....

Stout Rambling

DAY 3909 November 02, 2023
What's special about November 2nd? What is special about November 2? Did you know it's International Project Management Day, National Men Make Dinner Day, International Stout Day, National Stress Awareness Day, and Dynamic Harmlessness Day.

Pick one or maybe two and discuss them in your entry today. Have fun!

         National Stout Day, eh? And National Men Make Dinner Day, too? Two more glorious celebrations in the year's arsenal of extravaganzas. Oh wait, National Stress Awareness Day shares top billing as today's holiday de jour. Somehow I see them merging together, seamlessly.

         Picture my father an avid cook and devoted food fancier not one to turn away a refreshing glass of beer after a day toiling as a diesel mechanic. Why do I mention his hands-on career choice? To cook as he did meant ignoring the use of spoons and measuring gadgets such as delineated cups. To truly grasp a pinch of this and a handful of that he relied upon his black, grease-stained hands. He liked to feel as he kneaded and stirred with his stout, strong hands.

          His cooking style: recipe, shmecipe. He stoutly relied upon instinct. As long as his meals weren't charred they were edible. Too often he assuaged my initial misgivings with a wave of his hand and this proclamation.

         "It ( and it could and most likely would be anything ) will make you a hale and stout fellow with hair on your chest."

         Ah, geez, thanks Dad. Just what your eldest daughter yearns for, strength and body hair.

         Now I'm not dismissing his homestyle, hearty fare. I learned to appreciate his culinary creations after first attempting my childish objections. Really, did onion absolutely need to be in everything and why must our tongues scream for soothing water after an assault with fiery spices? We children endured the stout, determined, obstinate indoctrination. Now I cannot fathom much less consider cooking without onions and spices. I even brag about my stout, bulletproof stomach.

         My father embodies stout both as a beer fan and a proud, strong meal-cooking man. In his lifetime he also became stout of figure / physique. He was his own best guinea pig.

         Where does the stress awareness fit into this? Somebody and it wasn't dear ol' Dad had to clean up the kitchen. Do you have any inkling of how stout as in stubborn and sturdy spilled flour can be? It resists efforts to wipe it and it clings with a tenacious fierceness. It was almost enough to drive me to sample Dad's glass of stout. Almost, but not quite. Stout, beer, or ale, yuck!