Flash Nonfiction IV—The Good News!

Everyone loves food; even those pinch-faced (and they are always pinch-faced) ascetics who claim they “eat to live” hold dear some dish that they favor above all others. I know that I take my love of food to the extreme. I know that there is something outright dysfunctional going on in this relationship. I know that this is a story too-often told. This same-old-same-old does, however, explain why the “news” that inspired today’s post is not based in journalism. It is, rather, news that gets delivered to my inbox Thursdays through Mondays of each week.

It is, always, good news.

It is the daily dinner menu for Thomas Keller’s Ad Hoc.

I won’t be having dinner at Ad Hoc tonight because I’m in Connecticut, it’s in Yountville, California and Spring Break is over so I have classes. But I welcome the arrival of the dinner menu every time it appears; the idea that food this good is happening in the world seems like good news to me, even if the price of dinner is a solid and non-negotiable $52—and they charge extra if you want the (+) item. More good news: although I don’t have access to the same ingredients used at the restaurant, I do have the recipes for a lot of these dishes so I can make them at home at a substantial savings (though I won’t because the fried chicken needs a lot of pre-prep and I would have had to start yesterday).

I’m pretty certain that even those ascetics could find something to enjoy on this menu; if not today’s, then some other day’s. So, enjoy (and please note that any typos in the menu are not mine).

Dinner Menu for Monday, March 19th

Broccolini & Crescenza Salad
black olives, marinated mushrooms
fried chickpeas, red endive
lemon-honey vinaigrette

~

Buttermilk Fried Chicken
rancho gordo red beans and rice with sausage
sauteed romaine, english peas and carrots
chive oil

(+)

Prosciutto and Melted Onion Bruschetta
palladin toast, goat gouda
red radishes, rocket arugula

$12

~

San Joaquin Gold
pickled rhubarb
california strawberry and pear sald
piced mixed nuts

~

Pineapple Floats
vanilla ice cream, pineapple sorbet
huckleberry soda

Flash Fiction 1—Trespass

I don’t know what’s going on over there in that church and I certainly don’t know what’s going on over there in that apartment. The newspaper says she was walking around at that power plant naked, trailing my grandbabies behind her and calling up to the sky for forgiveness. The girls were naked, too.

She’s just had bad luck. All her life, bad luck. Bad luck before she was even born. But I don’t blame myself and I surely don’t blame her. She isn’t bad. Maybe I do blame that preacher. Maybe I do blame that girl who brung her to that church the first time; spent just as many hours in that place praying and singing and waving her hands in the air but she didn’t have the kinds of troubles my daughter had and she should have known troubles like that are not helped with prayers and songs and walking home with no shoes on your feet with your girls who are just 4 and just 11 following you and it was after midnight. That girl should have known. That girl should have gotten someone to drive my Greta and those babies home. That girl should have called me when Greta grabbed her children’s hands and pulled them out the door with her into the dark, into the cold.

I don’t know what Greta needs to be forgiven for; maybe for making those children take off all their clothes outside, maybe for making them follow her through that marshy grass, no shoes on their feet, on a night when mittens needed mittens. That girl should have noticed the coats left behind, and the shoes kicked off by the folding chair that Greta knocked over when she jumped up to praise Jesus. I don’t know what was in that girl’s mind. She was on the local news talking about how she knew Greta was taking comfort in the Lord. I don’t know why they even showed that nonsense on the television. And where are my grandbabies now?

This Ought To Do Something

I decided that since I don't have hours to write I ought to try writing short things. So here's a challenge I developed for myself:

Write a piece of flash writing (fiction or nonfiction) every day for a month—-March 16 to April 16, 2012—-either based on a specific event in the news or in response to a writing prompt.

Each piece must be a maximum of 365 words.

I'll post today's piece separately.