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 |   Blog Challenge And Other Tidbits |
| An opinion or two...or three or four... |
PROMPT May 9th Choose an event in your life that someone else remembers differently. Describe both memories and debate the differences. Who do you think is right? Why do you think you remember it differently? An event someone remembers differently...hmmm...I have to say this is a hard one for me. I come from a loud boisterous family and each one of us is always in each other's business. We've experienced life together and apart but we all know what everyone is doing and has done at any given moment in the day. And because we're all stubborn and bull-headed we have a tendency to put our own spin on everything. No, we're not liars, we just like to be the hero of the story. Every story. Whether it's ours or not. So for me, it's normal to remember EVERYTHING differently. But putting all that aside I'll have to say that...I can think of one silly instance that's not important at all. And it has to do with cooking. Polish cooking. Sauerkraut in particular. Next to my own mom, my Auntie Jen was probably the best cook on the planet. She had the golden touch when it came to baking or cooking. Everything she made was authentic and delicious. It was my Auntie Jen who taught us how to make sauerkraut. Sure, sure, everyone thinks this is simple, but in fact it's not. There's a certain technique and a certain recipe that produces delicious kraut that's not too tangy and not too sweet and not too dull and not overpowering. It's always perfect. Anyway, one of the "secrets" she shared with us is that the kraut has to be rinsed with water a certain number of times. The magic number is 12. You must rinse the kraut with 12 jars of water. Not 13. Not 11. And certainly not 10. No more, No less. It's 12. So I filed that little tidbit in my brain under the category "Extra Important". One day, just a few years ago, my brother offered to come to my house to cook for me. I was recuperating from back surgery and spending most of my days just trying to get around in my brace and my walker. Anyway, he offered to make sauerkraut and pork chops. That was music to my ears. I could really use some good Polish cooking. And kraut is one of my favorites. So he brought everything and proceeded to take over my kitchen. I sat at the bistro table looking on and just chatting. We were having some great conversation. Felt like old times at home when we'd cook together and talk about family. THEN I noticed him rinsing the kraut. I counted the jars in my head. One...two...six...And that was it. I furrowed my brows and politely reminded him it was twelve jars, not six. He turned with his hands on his hips and told me it was six, not twelve. I also put my hands on my hips and shot back it was twelve, not six. We went on like this for about 15 or 20 minutes. Each of us insisted we heard it right. He shouted six. I shouted 12. And of course we couldn't call Auntie Jen; she'd been gone from this earth and in heaven for a lot of years. Back and forth we went. Neither of us backing down. But then I realized he was doing me a HUGE favor and I wasn't being very grateful about the whole thing. You see, that's what happens when you're a Gemini - you're just always right...so you think. Back to the kraut. I decided that for once I would just shut my mouth and enjoy the food someone was nice enough to cook for me. So I let my brother cook. He's an excellent cook. Better than me. And of course the kraut was delicious. Tender, juicy, slightly tangy, slightly sweet and perfect. I told my brother it was perfect. He was smart enough not to tell me, "I told you so." To this day he rinses the kraut with 6 jars of water. I still rinse it with 12. And that's because I know it's twelve, not six. |
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