There must be some reason why Nathan obsessed about the Minotaur meat Roger Ebert had mentioned in his book on rice cookery, the same reason why he then asked Ebert–during the subsequent DadWagon Q&A he so graciously took part in–for a recipe of how to cook minotaur meat.
Maybe he’s fascinated with Minotaur meat because that’s what we do here at DadWagon: slay mythical beasts and serve them for supper. Theodore called out Choire Sicha of the white-hot TheAwl.com for his murderous ways but only after he eviscerated the blog-ambivalent New York Times. Matt attacked the iconic new pedestrian signals. Nathan slagged the Googleplex, revealed that Juggalos have mothers, and posted a photo of a terrifying Elmo costume that may well bring the Sesame Street merchandising aftermarket to its knees.
Or perhaps we like the idea of Minotaur meet because we are small-minded and cruel creatures full of resentment. If so, we have our reasons. Theodore has been replaced at bedtime and had to ask his ex-wife for a favor. Matt had to travel to China and watch other dads with their kids instead of being with his own. Christopher found that despite his best efforts, his baby’s mind has already been colonized by the muppets.
For those of you who haven’t heard of Choire Sicha (or, like me, have no fucking idea how to pronounce his name), wake up suckers–he’s Big Media and you’re not.
Worse yet, do you know that he wants to poison your children this Halloween!
Don’t believe me? Think it’s wrong to accuse a perfect stranger (FULL DISCLOSURE: we’re facebook friends, and he once incorrectly identified me as Ted rather than Theodore in an interview he ran on theawl.com, but I’ve never met him) of child-murder?
If it’s wrong, ladies and gentlemen, I don’t want to be right. He’s the one who ran an article earlier this week at The Awl entitled, succinctly enough: “This Is My Year To Finally Poison Some Children.”
What should I take from that? That seems a fairly explicit note of intent, wouldn’t you say?
The police ought to have an entire department devoted to reading headlines such as these, and, if I might steal a line from Mr. Sicha’s post: “strike!” (exclamation point added by me)
Now, now, now, later in the post, Sicha does seem to imply that he’s kidding:
Of course, I’m not interested in killing anyone’s children with poison. I mean, tops, I was sort of thinking just a mild tummy ache. Or! I could make some fake Skittles, that have the reverse flavor-to-color ratio. Like, you eat a yellow one, but it tastes blue.
Or maybe, maybe I could make candy mangoes, and tell the kids they’re candy apples, and then when they eat them, BAM. Surprise mango taste!
You know, just like when you think you’re about to drink milk, but it’s orange juice, and you’re all confused.
Killing them, sheesh! That’s… really mean.
Does he think all of us “straight people” (his term) are saps, boobs, morons, naive to the point of idiocy? Perhaps we are. Perhaps we are. But all I know is that some guy says he wants to poison my little boy I’m taking him at face value, even, as Mr. Sicha asserts, he doesn’t have their death in mind, but a far worse fate: he wants them to work at a DMV.
As far as I can tell, it goes like this: Kids learn to walk around 1 year old. Then they refuse to walk for the next 6 to 12 months. Then, finally, they discover the joy in bipedal ambulation and want to run everywhere, often without holding your hand, often directly into busy streets.
Which is where Sasha is right now. Which means we’ve started to teach her about walk signs at intersections. Which brings up an unusual problem. Here’s a sample interaction at a crosswalk:
Me: Sasha, do you see the hand? The hand is red. When the hand is red, you stop.
Sasha [jumping in place]: Stop!
It’s what comes next that gives me pause:
Me: Sasha, there’s the man! The man is white. When you see the white man, go go go!
Sasha: Go go go!
Am I just being overly sensitive? Yes, probably. Still, it just sounds weird to hear these words coming out of my mouth, particularly if, you know, we happen to be standing at the edge of the projects. I mean, I’m all for inculcating fear of white authority figures in my child, but really, I’d prefer to be teaching her to read the old-school WALK/DON’T WALK signs from years gone by. (The New Yorker once covered this very subject.) Of course, my nostalgia’s pretty pointless—the city started switching over more than seven years ago.
So, I’m left with the only subtext I can find: Instead of wanting to teach kids to read, the Bloomberg administration wants kids to run when they see the white man. Way to go, Mayor Mike!
It may seem counterintuitive: a book about cooking from someone who hasn’t been able to eat or taste anything since his fight with cancer in 2006. But Ebert’s perspective is actually richer for not being beholden to, as he puts it, the “biological compulsion” that drives most cooks and eaters. So The Pot is not a bunch of recipes. It’s a deeper idea about bringing real food back into your home. For someone like me, who has the same addiction to Dominican takeout that Charlie Sheen has to yayo, porn stars and smashing mirrors at the Plaza, it’s a godsend.
That’s why I’m so pleased to speak with Ebert (via email) about his book, communal meals, and what his father cooked for him as a child. Bonus for DadWagon readers: he unveils, for perhaps the first time since Theseus, a recipe for Sweet and Sour Minotaur. Our bull session:
Thanks for talking with us. I’m sold on the Pot already: I’ve got two kids who turn into eeping feces-hurlers if they don’t eat on time, and the pot helps me cook fresh food quickly. But what’s in it for you? Despite what the Esquire profile insinuated, your health seems stable; you’re not speeding toward la gloria. Why not pick a more leisurely, less utilitarian kind of cooking?
I wanted to share some practical discoveries about how people can prepare healthy meals for themselves even they have little time, space or cooking skills. It’s as simple as that. I found this out by experience.
You call yourself a practical cook, but you also write a lot about the romance and “the ancient spirit of the Pot.” After cancer, did you experience cooking for others on a more spiritual level? Can looking at food that way change habits?
Yes. It focuses on the communal, or tribal, or familial, aspects of cooking. There is a particular pleasure in preparing a meal for others, and it need not be an expensive, time-consuming meal. There may even be a greater pleasure in making that meal healthy.
Preparing food seems to be a bigger part of fatherhood these days. In one lovely essay about your father, you mentioned him making you toast with honey for breakfast. Do you have any other memories of him as a cook?
Chili. He always threw in a Hershey bar. And simmered the meat and onions with some chopped-up bacon. And it was his item of faith that chili was better after being left in the fridge overnight and warmed up. And he made it a point to have oyster crackers.
Your mention being able to stew anything, even “wild boar or minotaur” in the Pot. Can you come up with quick recipe for Minotaur meat for our readers?
If you understand the principles of The Pot, you can cook almost anything. Try Sweet and Sour Minotaur. In The Pot, in a little olive oil, simmer onions, Minotaur pieces and a good deal of garlic. Add chopped peppers, tomatoes, mushrooms and some bouillon. A bay leaf. Garam masala and other seasonings to taste. One jar of spicy peach salsa. Oh, and brown rice.
We here at DadWagon seem to be experts at inadvertently damaging our young children (tainted toys from China, finger-clipping umbrella strollers). But it’s time to really sear their psyches with a bad movie. What’s the worst children’s movie of the last ten years?
“Transformers 2.” It glorifies destruction and links it with the ideas of toys and entertainment. It encourages a short attention span. In general, children should be encouraged to view films with an actual narrative arc.
