Saturday lunch is the quirkiest meal that I have during the week if I am not golfing. It has been for years. Why? Because I never know quite what to have. I usually end up grazing in the refrigerator and pantry and slapping together some odd bodkin agglomeration of whatever I can find. Frequently PB & J on crackers. If I find nothing if interest, I may dash out to the local food mart and snag a few pieces of spanikopita. Regardless of what I have, Saturday lunch has rarely been satisfying. A few years ago, however, all that changed. A fork in the road. . . . .
There is an old adage that if you give a monkey a typewriter and enough time (and paper), he will eventually tap out a serviceable poem or intelligent article (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Infinite_monkey_theorem_in_popular_culture). Well after decades of trial and error, this chimp came up with a winner of a Saturday lunch.
I sliced a baguette thinly. Then spread a layer of Champagne (or honey) mustard, added some smoked salmon, a wedge of fresh avocado and some crumbly chive goat cheese. I nuked it for about 30 seconds and – voila! It was a Saturday lunch destined for the time capsule. I made extra and served it to Donna and she immediately asked for the recipe. That was a true endorsement of my creation.
From then on, I have been scrupulous about keeping these treasured ingredients close at hand. And I can’t wait for Saturday lunch. Whether or not I’m golfing. . . .