C.J., Lemon Lobster Rice, and Me

cj creggO human people: we only can preach at other so much before our faith falters. Today I’ve read as many articles and social media posts as I can manage, written three pieces (and one vehement blog post), and walked four miles in this stupid, stupid heat. My brain is officially dry white toast. So I’m going to make lemon lobster rice and wolf it in my air-conditioned bedroom while watching episodes of “West Wing.” Who knew that show would represent a relatively halcyon era of American politics? Anywhere, here’s the recipe if you’re interested. I made it up while watching C.J. Cregg eviscerate a fashion reporter, so if it’s off, you have my ardent apologies. It tasted pretty good to me.

Lemon Lobster Rice


1 1/2 cups white rice (I used organic jasmine)
2 1/2 tablespoons butter (if you’re feeling virtuous, substitute olive oil)
The juice of 1/2-2 lemons, seeded and depulped
3 cups fish stock, chicken stock, or water
1 fistful parsley, de-stemmed and chopped
1 clove minced garlic
green peas, at least a fistful
1 1/2-2 lb lobster
A sense of humor (always)
sea salt
black pepper

Boil a lobster, and allow it to cool for at least 10 minutes.  Crack it open, salvage as much of the meat as feels comfortable sir lobster(Rachel uses the whole guy; I avoid the green guck and the mealiest roe), and cut it into small bite-sized pieces. (I use kitchen shears; if you don’t have a pair, consider the investment. Total game-changer.) Meanwhile, cook the rice using the liquid of your preference. (I used two cups of water and a cup of chicken stock left over from my crab risotto adventure.) Over medium-heat, sauté the garlic in two tablespoons of the butter in a sturdy-bottomed, medium-sized pot–salacious, I know–and then fold in the lobster pieces, the bulk of the lemon juice, a few tablespoons of leftover stock if you have it, and the peas. (I snagged some from the bag I keep in my freezer to treat back spasms.) After the garlic smells deliciously cooked, fold in the cooked rice. Then, when the mixture looks like a happy family, add most of the parsley, the remaining butter and lemon juice as you see fit, liberal amounts of cracked black pepper, and finely ground sea salt to taste. Serve with a final twist of the pepper shaker and a dusting of extra parsley. Weekday summer glamour, at your service.

To Be of Use

firewallMichael Moore wields great influence, and his doomsayer pronouncement that “Trump will win” threatens to be a self-fulfilling prophecy, since people will not try to defeat the Republican nominee if they consider his victory already written in stone. It is highly possible that Moore is trying to rouse us to action with his words. Nonetheless, his sort of Cassandra punditry is profoundly unuseful right now, even brattily entitled. (It also smacks of egotistical link-baiting.) Many of us know that to be alive is to keep fighting–for the roofs over our heads, for fair wages, for the right to go and come as we please. Many of us know that the only way to survive is to live as if we can beat gloomy odds even when they seem unbeatable. What we require now is praxis: positive theory, positive action. We need to keep our eyes on the prize, with our sleeves rolled up to win it. These citizens are beautifully doing just that. This is how we defeat Trump and the culture of greed, hatred, and ignorance he represents.

Green Was the Silence

sleepy sophia I wake at five, when the world is still sleepy and quiet, before the day has knit its brow. I sit by the open window while the air is still cool, and I watch the sky wake, sweet as a toddler. I admire my coffee and my permakitten, both steaming at my side, and smile at the mango beneath my fingernails: a little more sweetness snuck into this morning. For the rest of the day, I will complete onerous errands and overdue assignments; it will be very hot and very humid; the news surely will be very bad. I am wondering, I am really wondering, if there will be another moment as pretty in this long, troubled July.

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy