Foodie: I have to ask you something.
Beast: What’s that?
Foodie: Did your pee smell funny today?
Beast: (Pause) No.
Foodie: Mine did. It smelled like cabbage rolls! Isn’t that funny?
Beast: You’re disgusting.
This is FATB’s first repeat: I did a post on cabbage rolls back in 2008, but the ones I made on Sunday afternoon deserve their own website. Now remember, the kind I make–and the kind my Aunt Sandy, Uncle Ron and Mom make (although the four of us all have slightly varying recipes)–aren’t the sort of cabbage rolls that you’d find in the Ukraine, for example, where they often use pickled cabbage leaves. They learned how to make cabbage rolls from their mom, of course, and she–a sturdy, formidable woman whose ancestors came from Alsace Lorraine– learned to make them from Vi Moffat, an English lady who lived down the street from them in Strathroy, Ontario. In other words, I’m pretty sure that these cabbage rolls aren’t traditional in the Eastern European sense, but my God are they good! In fact, it might just be my favourite dinner of all time, or at least my favourite autumnal dinner.
Anyway, the Beast and I have had them for dinner for the last two nights and I hope we have them tonight too.
The Beast got home late from work the first night we dined on them, so we didn’t eat until about 9:30pm. As soon as he got home, we filled our plates with a couple cabbage rolls each and a helping of corn (I know that sounds odd, but my mom always serves her cabbage rolls with corn and I’ve become attached to the odd, yet winning, combination), and tried to find something good to watch on the televison.
Beast: We both hate that movie though.
Foodie: We do? Oh yeah, we do, don’t we. I forgot.
Beast: Our mutual hate of the movie brought us together many years ago.
Foodie: I wonder if I lied about not liking it just to have something in common with you because this movie looks fucking awesome! Let’s watch it man!
As I teared up on several occasions during the poignant film, the Beast–out of nowhere–suddenly turned the channel.
Foodie: What are you doing? Turn it back!
Beast: But Billy Madison is on! Come on–it’s so much better than Love, Actually.
Foodie: Actually, it’s not. Can you please turn it back?
Beast: Let’s just watch Billy until he goes to commercial.
So we watched Billy Madison for a bit. What was scary is that the Beast knew all the jokes before they came and started laughing ahead of time, in anticipation of said jokes, which was actually way funnier to watch than Love, Actually. Actually, Billy Madison is a really funny movie.
In order to avoid conflict during Supreme Cabbage Roll Dinner #2, we decided together to rent Gone with the Wind to watch with supper. But there was still conflict in picking out the movie: the Beast wanted to watch a Jazz documentary on some guy named Louis Bluey. Never heard of him? EXACTLY. In an attempt to win me over, the Beat pointed out that Woody Allen endorsed the film. I believe Allen’s quote on the DVD case said:
I like Jazz and I like Louis Bluey. So this is the perfect movie for me.
Fair enough, but it’s not the perfect movie for me, especially while dining on award-winning cabbage rolls. Anyway, reason prevailed, and Gone with the Wind it was. But right in the middle of the Civil War action, the Best paused the film.
Beast: Can I talk to you about something without you getting mad?
Beast: I think next time you make cabbage rolls, you should salt the meat more.
Foodie: I disagree whole-heartedly.
Beast: You do?
Beast: I think this is the first time in this relationship that I’ve thought something needed more salt and you didn’t.
Foodie: Can you press play please? Did you know that the book I’m reading right now–the biography of Louisa May Alcott– has too do with the Civil War a bit too? Did you know that she grew up in Concord, Massachusetts, and people like Emerson and Thoreau were her neighbours? She could see Walden Pond form her bedroom window!
Beast: I did know that. Actually, a relation of Buckminster Fuller, an intellecutal named Margaret Fuller, lived there too. She taught at that school that Alcott’s dad started. What was it called…The Temple School? She was quite instrumental in that transcendentalist stuff.
Foodie: (Putting fork down–briefly–to look at the Beast) How in the hell do you know shit like that?
Beast: I read.
Foodie: Thoreau was very important to me in my youth you know. I remember–
Beast: I know, I know: your Dad bought you a collection of his works for your 15th birthday and you thought to yourself, What a shitty thing to buy a teenager for their birthday, but Walden ended up enlightening you and–
Foodie: I take it you’ve heard that one before.
Beast: You know what gets me? You don’t even know who my favourite New Orleans trombone player is.
Foodie: Who is it?
Beast: I don’t really have one. Maybe Jack Teagarden, but he’s not from New Orleans. But my point is YOU DON’T LISTEN.
Foodie: I think these are the best cabbage rolls I’ve ever made.