The Beast Makes Dinner

The Beast and I made a date last night to meet at the Varsity Cinema to watch Brüno. I had some time to kill beforehand, so I rode my bike to eat some french fries made by Jaime Kennedy’s kid at the Riverdale Farmers’ Market. Four dollars got me a paper cone filled with golden, crispy little fries tossed generously in salt and a little fresh thyme. I also found a bakery stall, St. John’s Bakery, and unlike most bakery stalls that I’ve come across at Toronto’s farmers’ markets, this one was selling goods made with actual butter, white flour, and eggs, rather than hemp, spelt and tofu. So I picked up sticky cinnamon buns, plus some cookies–both oatmeal and dark chocolate for movie snacks.

(Outside the cinema, after watching Brüno.)

Beast: I’m sorry I shh’ed you during the movie.

Foodie: Oh that’s okay. Was I really laughing that loud?

Beast: It wasnt’ so much your laughing, it was your talking. Right before particularly jarring scenes you’d start squirming and then say out loud: “Oh no, it can’t be,” and “It’s not possible,” and “Ohmygod, ohmygod.”

Foodie: Really?

Beast: I think when people get older they lose that faculty of being conscious of thinking out loud. What do you want for dinner?

Foodie: To be honest, after all those delicious baked treats, I’m not that hungry. What if we just make a big salad?

Beast: Sounds perfect.

Foodie: Great. We have fancy croutons and bacon at home. Can you pick up a head of romaine and a jar of Renée’s caesar salad dressing from Sobey’s when you get off the streetcar? (I was on my bike.) Only buy Renée’s, okay?

Beast: Okay. I’ll see you at home.

photo[1]I got home first. When I went upstairs to change, I was stunned by what I saw in our bedroom: somebody had gently laid down three collared shirts on top of the dirty clothes hamper. Somebody didn’t even take the time to lift the lid of the hamper and put the dirty shirts in there. And somebody put these dirty shirts there after I just finished doing all of our laundry.

And then, someobody arrived home.

Foodie: (yelling from the top of the stairs) May I speak with you for a moment up here please?!

Beast: Can’t talk now, I have to make dinner!

I found the Beast in the kitchen emptying out his shopping bags.

Beast: They didn’t have Renée’s so I bought this no-name brand.

Foodie: Oh we’re returning that. I bought it once before in a pinch and it’s terrible. No joke. I’m not trying to be difficult, but it’s truly inedible.

Beast. No bother. We don’t need salad. I’ve got another plan.

Foodie: And what’s that?

I didn’t need to ask. I could see plain as day that the Beast was unpacking a bag of tortilla chips, a container of hummus, a container of guacamole and pre-packaged garlic bread–the kind that comes all wrapped in foil.

photoFoodie: We’re having garlic bread and chips with dip for dinner?

Beast: Yes! And I’m going to grate cheddar cheese onto the garlic bread!

Foodie: Don’t use the Microplain to grate the cheese- use the regular grater.

Beast: Don’t be so bossy! I like it this way. The cheese melts better. Why were you yelling at me when you were upstairs?

Foodie: Well now I feel bad telling you since you’re making us such a lavish dinner, but here goes: when you have dirty clothes, can you please not hide them in your closet and then put them on top of the hamper seconds after I do all the laundry?  And stop putting clothes on the hamper lid!  Do you want everybody to read about your poor behaviour in F & B?

Beast: You’re being the effing B!

Foodie: Wow. That was good.

Beast: Thanks. Now since I’m made dinner, I get to choose what we watch while we eat.

Foodie: What did you have in mind?

imagesBeast: A documentary by Louis Malle on India.

Foodie: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Please let me find something good to watch on the television! Maybe Canada’s Next Top Model is on!

Beast: Nope. We’re watching the India documentary. Maybe you’ll learn something.

We did watch the documentary. I fell asleep about 15 minutes in, after consuming 5 chips with packaged dip and the butt end of one of the Beast’s cheesy garlic sticks. And I did learn something: I can’t send the Beast unsupervised to grocery stores, unless I want to eat shit for dinner.

Foodie: 1/2* (for the Beast’s enthusiasm)

Beast: ***** (he knows the top score is four stars but he insisted on the five.)

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