When I say that I’m in the mood for Chinese food, what I typically mean is: I want veggie spring rolls. They serve them at every Chinese-American restaurant I’ve encountered. They are crispy and delicious. I want them now. So after work today, I stopped outside the clock-in machine and looked up recipes for spring rolls on my phone. I located this one, which looked promising. I realized that I would be doing much the same as that blogger did, take pictures of the process of making those spring rolls, but who cares? I’d be making the recipe for the first time. Surely that would add something new to the recipe.
I decided I would buy veggies for my handsome boys, because they haven’t had veggies in a while. I went to the grocery store. This involved visiting areas of the store I hadn’t really spent time in before.
I honestly can’t decide if that’s the correct “due” or not. Do to? Due to?
This recipe called for ingredients had never used before — I was disappointed to learn that you just buy these. I had most been looking forward to making the wrappings, although in retrospect that probably would have been the most difficult part of the process.
The recipe called for “oyster sauce” which I had never heard of before. Apparently that’s the flavoring in a lot of Chinese foods though. I had to take a picture of the aisle I grabbed the oyster sauce from — all of that is soy sauce, and there’s soy sauce in other aisles as well. Where is the oyster sauce? There’s one option of oyster sauce, up in the very left-hand corner. Oyster-flavored sauce. Close enough.
They had Superbowl and Valentines Day options in the impulse grab section. I took this picture because I thought the bear was wearing a bikini, which is hilariously tacky. After reexamining the bear, I realized it was a bee. Bee My Valentine, is the point of the teddy bear. Which is still pretty tacky, but less ridiculously so.
For the most part this recipe didn’t call for unusual foods, but it did call for foods prepared in a way I had never done before. I was supposed to grate ginger. I realized that I didn’t even know what ginger looks like outside of a powder.
This, I realized, was part of the reason why I force myself to make foods like this — so I can understand where things come from. So I don’t lose touch with the way things are. The powdered ginger in my mother’s cupboard came from somewhere. Someone made those veggies rolls I so love.
But as I neared the check-out, I realized that these veggie rolls would take time to make. Time that I didn’t necessarily have. I have a journal entry due on Blackboard at 9:30 tomorrow morning, and I still need to read three chapters for that. I still have two chapters due for US History through Its Holidays. And of course I’m probably all kinds of behind on Post-1949 China. I stood there in the store and debated. I really wanted to make veggie rolls. It would make me internet famous, maybe, and also I really wanted crisp, crunch veggie rolls. But I need to finish my history degree.
With a sigh, I put everything back. I figured that since I was doing the responsible thing, I may as well treat myself. Since Mom wasn’t going to be around to judge me, I bought a can of pears to eat straight out of the can. I bought a pre-cooked chicken because I haven’t had meat all by itself in weeks. And I bought a donut.
I was satisfied.
And I still bought veggies for my handsomes.
Sonny was very excited about veggies.
I did not pose him. This is how I found him.
Slinky was less certain about his veggies. It took a superworm to even get him this far.
He came around eventually though.