Food for Thought

Two friends are shopping for groceries for a potluck later in the evening. One strongly believes his opinion should matter when it really doesn’t. 

“Hey. Thanks for picking me up,” said Jonah, clicking his seat belt into place.

“No problem,” Henry said, pulling away from the curb of Jonah’s apartment complex. “I just got off the phone with Samir. He said he just finished eating with his parents so we should have plenty of time to shop, make food and then head over.”

“Sounds good to me. What are you making?” asked Jonah.

“I’ll cut up a meat and cheese board for the other appetizer and make a main course,” said Henry. Not sure what or how I’ll make the main course though. I’ll check out what they have at the store first.”

Jonah rolled his eyes. “I should have known.”

“What?”

“You always decide at the store. It makes it hard to coordinate with you.”

“Oh don’t get me started on coordinating potlucks,” said Henry. “You’re the one who throws a wrench into every plan.”

“I always say you guys don’t have to worry about me,” Jonah laughed. “I got myself covered. Besides, you guys seem to like what I bring.”

“That’s true,” admitted Henry. “Speaking of which, you going to roast brussel sprouts again like for Wendy’s birthday? That was pretty good.”

“Yeah. It’s really the garlic. Garlic makes everything good.”

“That’s what you’re getting from the store?” asked Henry. “I could have picked up brussel sprouts and garlic for you.”

“No, I’m making my hummus plate too. Besides, I want to see Chef Henry in action,” Jonah said grinning.

“Great, as if I needed more pressure,” said Henry.

“No need to worry,” Jonah said dismissively. “Samir loves get-togethers, so I don’t think it matters what you make.”

A momentary but not uncomfortable lull formed between the two. Henry continued driving with his right hand barely gripping the steering wheel at the 12 o’clock position. His left hand tapping his knee to a beat in his head. Jonah swiped the screen of his phone a few times before putting it away to watch his neighborhood pass by at 35 miles per hour.

Jonah spoke first. “So… you think Samir is ready?”

Henry shrugged, shifting in his seat and switching to driving with his left hand. This time holding the steering wheel at the 6 o’clock position. “I think so. I’m sure he just wants to stop worrying about it.”

“He’s lucky that he has a few months left on his parent’s insurance plan,” said Jonah.

Henry nodded in agreement. “I looked up how much the procedure costs. I wouldn’t be able to afford it if I had to pay out of pocket.”

“Does he know what’s going to happen with the insurance stuff? He turns 26 in June.”

“Nope. I’ll be honest…” Henry slowed at an intersection, checked for oncoming cars and completed th right turn before finishing his thought. “I’m not too familiar with the healthcare thing. I get my insurance through work.” Henry paused. “I don’t even know how much they deduct from my paycheck.”

“We should ask him later,” said Jonah. “Seems like it’s something he should know.”

They drove the next 15 minutes in a comfortable silence that was only broken when another driver cut Henry off. The rest of the five minute drive to the store was filled with colorful expletives and a half-hearted discussion of proper driving etiquette.

By the time they parked, the roadrage had cooled and rounded back to the evening’s get-together.

“How many people are going again?” asked Henry as they walked side-by-side through the parking lot to the grocery store.

“Eight,” responded Jonah. He nodded to Henry’s left, toward the row of shopping carts. “Want to grab a cart?”

Henry stepped around a woman setting up an information or donation booth and retrieved the nearest cart.

They entered the grocery store that boasted a wide selection of products sourced from local growers and vendors. It was big enough that even with the several dozen shoppers present, it didn’t seem crowded. Jonah and Henry only shopped here on special occasions, as the products were of higher quality and, therefore, of higher prices.

Henry led Jonah directly to the meat department. He brought out a pen and notebook from his jacket pocket and consulted his notes as he surveyed the contents behind the glass case.

Jonah gave a cursory glance at the various animal products and grimaced at the boar’s head on display. He turned away. “Hey, I’m going to get my hummus stuff. I’ll find you.”

“‘Kay,”Henry said absentmindedly before stepping up to talk to the employee behind the case.

The two separated for a moment to gather items for their respective dishes and found each other in the produce section. Jonah dropped his findings into the cart beside two paper-wrapped packages of meat.

“What’s that?” asked Henry, looking down.

“Dessert.”

“That’s a fruit platter.”

“No good?”

Henry made a face. “Be a little more imaginative, will you? That’s not ‘last dinner’ worthy.”

“Last dinner?” Jonah asked with raised eyebrows. “Don’t be so dramatic. Samir is getting a tooth implant, not heart surgery. I’m pretty sure he’ll make it through his operation. And even if it was heart surgery, why would you even call it a last dinner? That’s messed up.”

“Fine, but they’re literally doing a bone graft on his jaw on Monday,” Henry replied. “He won’t be able to chew for a while, and you know he likes to eat.”

Jonah looked down at the sliced fruit in the plastic tray container. “Perhaps watermelon is a bit underwhelming,” he admitted. “You mind stopping by that ice cream place later? I can pick up a few pints of their specialty flavors.”

“Sure.”

“Have you decided what you’re making?”

“I know it’ll either be a lamb roast or filet mignon. I’ll make one for tonight and save the other for some other time.”

“Lamb? Isn’t that what knocked out Samir’s tooth to begin with?”

“That was a lamb shank. He went to town on that bone.”

“You’re going to bring up bad memories.”

“I’ll prepare it differently,” said Henry. “Besides, Wendy is bringing bottles of syrah and cabernet sauvignon.”

“What’s a syrah?”

“A red. They’re both red wines. Beef and lamb pair well with red.”

“I never understood this pairing thing,” said Jonah. “I’m pretty sure no one would mind if it was chicken and red wine.”

“Of course not,” said Henry. He wandered the produce section, examining the available ingredients. “It also depends on how you make the chicken. It’s more about complementary flavors. The red meat, red wine and white meat, white wine is just a guideline.”

“So why not just do chicken or pork?” Jonah asked. “I hear your chicken tikka masala is good.

“You’ve never had my tikka masala,” Henry said patiently. “I don’t think it’ll go well with the syrah.”

“I’m sure if I tried it, I wouldn’t care what wine to have it with.” Jonah persisted.

“Uh-huh,” Henry replied. “You’re never going to try it, are you?”

Jonah looked at Henry with a raised eyebrow.

“Nevermind.”

Henry’s meandering path took them to the onions and garlic stand.

“A rosemary and garlic lamb roast sounds good,” said Henry as he placed several bulbs of garlic into the shopping cart.

“That seems a bit common, don’t you think?”

“It’s a beloved classic,” said Henry. He looked back at his notes and then surveyed the fresh herb shelf that stood next to them. “I can add a twist, though. Oh, look! They have dried lavender. I’ve always wanted to add it to a roast.”

Jonah picked up a bag and sniffed the contents. He frowned as he handed it to Henry. “It’s smells nice and all, but it doesn’t seem like it would work on something savory. Seems more like a dessert topping.”

“It’s been done before,” Henry said. “It’s actually pretty good.”

“Weird. I veto.”

“You’re not even having any,” Henry returned the bag to the shelf anyway.

“Take it easy,” said Jonah with his palms up in a mockingly placating gesture. “Just trying to help. What about the beef?”

“I’ll just save it.”

“Don’t you want it fresh?”

“Normally, yes. But I like to sear steaks when they’re frozen.”

“You should make fajitas out of the steaks,” offered Jonah. “I saw a commercial for some Mexican restaurant. They make their fajitas with filet mignon.”

“I know meat prep isn’t your thing,” said Henry as he picked up a bundle of lemongrass. “But you don’t do that to filet mignon.”

Henry tore off a bit of lemongrass to nibble and nodded appreciatively.

“Alright, I got my twist,” proclaimed Henry. “Let’s go to the deli.”

They moved on to the deli section and Henry began a slow circle around the refrigerated oval shelf packed with assorted cured meats and cheeses. Jonah saw a package labeled “Spicy Soppressota” and brought it to Henry.

“You should serve this,” said Jonah. “Samir loves spicy.”

“He does,” began Henry. “But spiciness will overpower everything else on the board.”

“Oh please. Everyone there enjoys spicy foods. I’ve seen every one of you put sriracha on things it has no business being on.”

Henry let out a breath through his nose. “Why don’t you get in line to pay? We should probably head back soon. I know what I need so I’ll come as soon as I find them on the shelf.”

“Yeah, sure. I can do that,” said Jonah. He craned his head to look at the front of the store and started towards the registers. “Hurry up though. There are a two lanes open that don’t have anyone lined up.”

“Never coming here with him again,” Henry muttered as soon as Jonah got out of earshot.

Only two items weren’t rung up when Henry caught up with his several packets of meats and cheese. Henry charged everything to his credit card and Jonah gave him cash for his portion. They bagged their own groceries and made their way outside. Henry returned the shopping cart to the same place, again, needing to sidestep the women with the booth. She appeared to have captured her first victims: a young couple who were clearly too polite to leave mid-conversation.

“... to defund Planned Parenthood. Your involvement can help women get the treatment they can’t get anywhere else…”

Henry quickly joined up with Jonah who was already halfway to the car.

“Nice maneuver,” said Jonah grinning. “I was afraid she was going to get you.”

“I had a diversion. It doesn’t look like they’re getting out anytime soon.”

“What is she selling?”

“Sounded like she’s trying to get support for Planned Parenthood,” said Henry. “I didn’t know they were still trying to defund it.”

“Yeah, it’s stupid,” said Jonah.

“Why?” asked Henry as he unlocked the car.

Jonah placed the groceries in the back and got in the car before answering.

“I think it’s absurd that male politicians make the laws that directly impacts how a woman can get female-specific treatment,” says Jonah while shaking his head. “I don’t understand why the male politicians feel like their opinions matter since they’re not even the ones who require those kind of services! It’s like… how does that even make sense?”

Jonah turned to face Henry, who was giving him a flat stare.

“What?” asked Jonah.