weekend update. July 7,2013

"All the great things are simple, and many can be expressed in a single word: freedom, justice, honor, duty, mercy, hope"

Winston Churchill

There was a  delicious smell smelled round the world last Thursday- it was the smoke from millions of American barbecues swirling with the smoke of millions of American fireworks, signaling the celebration of this country's formation.

Our own grill fires had cooled, and the dogs were cowering from the booms of local fireworks when it hit me. The word freedom. It was....everywhere. I tried looking away! I tried to think of something else! But that word! It was inescapable! I gave up, and surrendered to a sort of word-nerd trance.....

I see....free.

Sugar-free, fat-free, gluten-free,  free press, free speech, free love, duty-free, tax free, free spirit, free wheeling,  freedom songs, freedom poems, freedom train, freedom park. Carefree, Scot-free, free-fall, free will, free Willy....

The mind was reeling. 

And by reeling I mean skittering about in an energetic hokey pokey which came to a stop with the realization that the word, by frequent repetition, had shaken loose of its definition, and left me wondering...

"What's that mean, anyway?"

It's a simple word, but not an easy one. 

So I consulted my favorite authority on all things philosophical. 

 Fairy tales.

Which reminded me that freedom is often in the eye of the non-holder. 

Consider, say, the story of Aladdin, as told by Disney:

"If only I had more money, I'd be free"                      "If only I had less money, I'd be free" 

"If I were free, I'd be less blue..."                          "I shall be free, once I have enslaved the world"

And of course I consulted the dictionary, which left me with the odd sense that freedom may be about what one is without.

I mean that....well... hmm.
Perhaps a lesson learned from the leftovers will serve as an example.

First though, the week, which came off better than expected: 

Martha Stewart's barbecued chicken? Excellent. I let the sauce simmer a little too long, and it became too thick to brush on easily, so it was thinned with....coffee. Yes coffee. And it was awesome.

The fresh corn salad is a definite repeater- nutritious, delicious,

and the sort of recipe that makes you glad
for all those hard working little rods and cones.

On a whim, I soaked the marjoram pork chops in honey salt brine before grilling them. Cooking pork nicely is difficult for me- it's the doneness thing.
I'll think the meat is done, check, check again, and ask myself "So, is this the day when you treat your loved ones to a round of salmonella?" and get creeped out by the question. The only answer seems to be cooking the poor beast tough and dry. The brine helped with that- the meat was relatively moist and tender, and to my knowledge, all pork chop partakers remain nausea free. 

The dictionary's lesson on freedom and withoutness arrived sometime Saturday, when it hit me that the time spent with the grill on Thursday and Friday had given us hours of free time on the weekend. 

That's free time.
 Time without obligations or duties or set tasks.

Which is pretty valuable time.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, sometimes, when one gives fairy tales the attention and respect they deserve, the free-time fairies sneak into kitchen, and do this sort of thing with your leftovers:

This is the leftover barbecued chicken, transformed into the California Kitchen Barbecued chicken salad. We were without jicama, so the yellow bell peppers provided the cool crunch instead. The easy dressing? Leftover barbecue sauce whisked together with plain yogurt and mayo and olive oil. Magic! I was so inordinately impressed with this plate that I drizzled (how's that for a fancy cooking word?) the dressing with a dark flourish of straight sauce.

And here's the leftover pork chops, sliced paper thin and turned into Greek Salad with Pork. The thin pork, the tomatoes, the feta, the tangy dressing- it was like a very nice gyros on a plate. This is the best non-stir fry use of leftover pork to come out of this kitchen ever, and the next time we have it, the addition of a round of puffy pita, or hummus,or a piece of crispy falafel will make it even better.

 Even after a four day Independence weekend,

that freedom word, and a few other simple and uneasy words - 

duty, justice, mercy, hope, love- remain elusive.

But here's what I know:

 that to speak of freedom is to speak of lack and limitations

and the longing for lack of limitations.

And that leads me to hope.

To hope that this week, if (and almost certainly when)

you find yourself feeling wrecked, exhausted, hemmed in or beat down,

you'll remember that while those feelings are truth,

 they are not the only truths.

Because I believe you have (resting right between your ears)

more power and more freedom than you know.

I believe you are more loved than you imagine.
 I hope that this week you remember,once or twice,

the beautiful truth of who you are

and that the truth sets you free.