Today is the annual celebration of the day that, post-Prohibition, beer was allowed to be bottled and sold again.
We got together Saturday to make potstickers. It was a lot like the time we got together to make spring rolls except that he actually liked the end result this time, which is good.
Here is what made them so similar:
1. I did the prep work (cutting and mixing, mostly).
2. He offered to help assemble.
3. He offered his kitchen for the assembling process.
4. Upon unpacking bags of prep bowls he said “oh”.
5. There were lengthy demonstrations of faulty telekinesis.
6. My assembling is free-form, but compact and attractive.
7. His assembling is a bit like a football player’s attempt at embroidery – recognizable as needlepoint but indescribable beyond that point.
We tend to end up with a plate of fairly uniform objects and a plate of slightly misshapen things. We always choose to eat the misshapen plate first so that, in the event there are leftovers, no one has to admit to their coworkers which one is so bad at cooking.
But Saturday we just ate in silent contentment until all that was left was an empty plate, two sets of glistening ebony chopsticks, and a dish of hot peppers.