There are certain dishes that I should not be able to make vegetarian versions of. In some cases, even I must admit that it just seems wrong. And yet, it is possible, and so I do it. And I am not ashamed of myself in the least. Regardless of how I have spit in the face of the lords of meat dishes, I cannot be anything other than fully satisfied with myself.
(Is the Jane Austen voiced narrator in my head showing?)
Anyway, all of this is brought on by the fact that as I am typing this, my room is being filled with the scent of vegetarian shepherd’s pie. Yeah . . .I know. A thousand Englishmen just screamed out in abject terror.
It’s a layer of vegan meatballs. (I know, right!) Peas, carrots, and green beans. Vegetarian brown gravy. (Eeeeh, gads) Topped with garlic, cheesy mashed potatoes.
And what’s worse, all those things either came frozen, powdered, or boxed in some manner.
Go ahead! Verbally flog me!
But I probably won’t be able to hear you over the sound of my own chewing.
I’ve been mentioning this soccer team, but I haven’t really explained what it’s all about. It is the source of many good laughs and more than a few bumps and bruises.
It all started around Thanksgiving time, when Pedro gave me a call to recruit me. He explained that he was starting a team that would play in Alameda. It’s a coed 30+ league. I thought it sounded like an excellent way to meet new people, and to meet new beer, as there is a beer pub at the sports facility. Oh hell, let’s face it, I wanted to meet men. I told Pedro as much.
So, our season began in January, and I’ve been having a very good time with it. I love to play, and am remembering my competitive streak. The first game was very difficult, and I was huffing and puffing and miserable. The next few days were terrible. I was sore and stiff all over. It hurt to sneeze or cross my legs. Oh, but it was all worth it. Of course, we had our asses royally handed to us.
In fact, we have yet to win a game. We tied last week. It was as close as we’ve come. Perhaps this week will be the one.
So, on Friday evenings, I go and run about and get kicked Everywhere. It’s the most fun I’ve had in ages. Even when it hurts and I’m out of breath and smell awful. At least there’s beer in the end.