We took the Christmas tree down. It’s fake, so we shoved it back in the box and stuffed it into the closet for safe keeping. I was sad to see it go, but there are weird rules about new years and deconstructing the past. January doesn’t like twinkling lights. The spirit of giving scares away the groundhogs. Something like that, anyway.
Happy New Year, by the way.
Now, for the recipe.
1 head of cabbage
1 package kielbasa sausage (more if you’re good for it)
A big steamer pot
Steps 1 Through 3
Decide that you don’t want to cook dinner tonight.
Tell your spouse and children that they’re on their own.
Take a nap.
Now, I know that these directions can seem a little out there, but if you’re going for the full experience, I really do recommend following them to a T. It’s the only way to fully appreciate all that this recipe has to offer.
Did you take your nap yet?
Steps 4 through 6
Wake up just before dinner time
Walk into the kitchen and see that no one has even thought about cooking yet
Find the boys in the garage finishing up with a woodworking project. Realize that your teenager is behind a locked bedroom door with music that is barely music playing too loud.
Okay, so this last set of steps may be a little different depending on your household, but you get the idea. Everyone’s doing their usual thing, and dinner is just supposed to magically appear like it does every night.
Sigh to yourself and allow your resolve to dissolve. Go back to the kitchen and stare at various ingredients, waiting for something to speak to you.
Open the fridge one more time and realize that you just happen to have some cabbage from a meal you never got around to prepping, and hey! Is that sausage in the drawer?
Get out that big steamer pot. Chop up the cabbage and slice up the sausage while the water is coming to a boil.
Toss everything into the pot.
Let is all steam til the cabbage is soft.
Tell everyone that dinner is ready. For this one, you’ll want to prepare yourself for a couple of different reactions, just in case. A) Your spouse will say, “Oh, really? I was just going to order a pizza. This is way better!” or B) Everyone will look at you like it’s just another day in the neighborhood, having completely forgotten that they were supposed to fend for themselves.
Roll your eyes
Curl up on the couch with your tablet and headphones and get caught up on that show you’ve already seen three times, but they just came out with a new season, so you have to relive it all from the beginning in order to get the full effect.
I love lazing around my parents’ house, pretending that I’m only here because it’s the holiday season instead of my puppy and I needing a place to crash after I quit my job for no good reason. Yes, there’s Christmas music is in the air, and the tree is all decorated with care. Never mind that my dog is chewing the bows off of the bottom rows. Lets get down to this week’s amazing dish!
Send Mom to the store at least a week before you get around to actually making the dip.
The Shopping List
Wake up one Saturday feeling particularly productive.
Eat breakfast, take a shower, clean your room, and do some laundry.
Think about getting ready to do some writing, but get distracted with tidying up your email inbox instead.
Email tidy, further avoid any real work by wandering into the kitchen for a snack.
See Dad on the couch reading his Kindle.
Ask him how to make Buffalo Dip.
“Throw some shit together,” he says.
Respond, “I can do that.”
Throw some shit into a pot – low heat – with the finely chopped, nearly fresh herbs.
The $64,000 question:
How much do we want to make?
There’s three of us and a whole weekend to eat it.
What we’re making will probably be enough for 12 people.
Leave well enough alone.
Take the crackers away from Mom so she doesn’t eat them while the dip cooks down.
Sit around the kitchen table while the smells filling the air make everyone wonder if there’s something quicker in the fridge.
Dad grabs a beer and reads his Kindle in between bouts of stirring. He hasn’t added the chicken yet, but it’s cut up.
Mom decides to eat half of a sandwich over the sink, remarking on the weather through the window, “I’m so glad to finally see some sunshine!”
Use your Chromebook to start typing up a recipe for buffalo dip.
Get stuck about halfway through. It’s going to take longer than you thought, and now you’re hungry too, and maybe you need a cigarette. And damn it, how did you end up being productive while trying to procrastinate?
Watch Dad take the pot off the burner. Its contents have been bubbling for a while now.
He lets is cool for a minute or three.
He puts the chicken in a bowl and adds a little of the creamy stuff from the pot and some buffalo sauce to taste.
He starts a’mixing.
Realize that the stuff in the mixing bowl is the dip. It’s all of the dip. There’s still a bunch of the creaminess in the pot, and there’s still some chicken he hasn’t cut up yet.
Wonder if that was the plan all along as he puts cling wrap over the mixing bowl and puts it in the fridge.
Remove bowl from fridge when he leaves the kitchen.
Take a picture of it all next to each other.
Put bowl back into fridge.
Come to the conclusion that this dip is gonna be rad in about an hour.
Until then, procrastinate some more.
Wait all of 13 minutes.
Decide that it’s probably been long enough.
Grab the crackers you were hiding, and
Munch on that awesome Buffalo Dip all day until you realize you never took a final final pic of it.
Stop the writing you finally got around to doing and go get the bowl out of the fridge.
Put some crackers next to the half-eaten delicious mush and take a picture.*
And there you have it
It’s as easy as wasting a whole day.
If you have a recipe you’d like me to try, share the link or give me an easily searchable name for it. The comment section works really well, but if you want to be all secretive about it, try the contact form instead!