Divorce-inspired dinners: Cheers to cooking with cucumbers
After my first divorce-inspired dinner essay, I received several messages from women — some former colleagues, others acquaintances and some friends I hadn’t talked to in years, but all confiding in me about their shitty marriages, fear of leaving and desire for validation. This is to say that divorce was not the only inspiration for this piece — those women were, too. This one’s for you, ladies.
Among the many things that drove my ex and I crazy (and not in the good way) about each other was that he hates cucumbers and I love raw dough. Bread dough, pizza dough, pasta dough, pie dough, doesn’t matter, but I do draw the line at cookie dough. I will pinch off a hunk of rising dough and shove it in my mouth. Sometimes I even take the time to sprinkle a little salt on it. This grossed him out. And so did cucumbers. And that grossed me out.
Cucumbers are one of the least offensive fruits. They don’t emit an intense odor or leave a lasting residue on your hands like oranges. They don’t have a strong or bitter taste like grapefruits. And they’re pretty damn versatile. Drop a slice in your water and it not only tastes refreshing, but also like you’re at a fancy spa. Chop some up and toss them in a salad for a healthy crunch a crouton simply can’t offer. They are also the perfect vehicle for hummus. And Ranch dressing. And I mean, is it even a street taco without a couple slices of cucumbers?
You get it. This is me ranting about not getting to cook with cucumbers during my marriage. One could argue that me eating raw dough is more offensive and possibly even a health hazard, but that person isn’t me.
It’s not like we didn’t know about each other’s food likes and dislikes before getting married. We just overlooked them. That’s what people do in the beginning stages of a relationship, isn’t it? Excuse any potential red flags, forgive annoyances and maybe even deem them adorable — until they’re not. And of course, on the opposite end, most of us have relationship deal breakers.
I once dated a guy who ate his fries before touching his cheeseburger. I ended that relationship before I even finished digesting my food. And another guy, who was an Ironman athlete, followed a strict diet regimen. When I found myself stealthily dumping extra olive oil and butter onto or into his dinner — in the hopes neither of us would have a six-pack — I decided it was time to call it quits. I don’t think I could even be friends with someone, let alone date a person, who doesn’t triple the garlic in a recipe. Oh, and don’t even get me started on adults who eat like kids.
Speaking of kids, I’m trying to teach the two of mine to appreciate good food. A huge part of my day is perusing recipes on the internet, deciding what to cook for dinner, grocery shopping, cooking and then arguing with my kids when they refuse to eat it. “Do you know how hard I worked to make this for you?” I ask them, reminding myself of my mom but not enough to scare myself into stopping. “This is homemade and healthy. Do you know how many kids would love a meal like this?”
“Different strokes for different folks,” my 7-year-old son Archer tells me. I catch my 4-year-old daughter Isla fake a cough and toss a few pieces under the table.
Because I don’t want either one to develop an eating disorder, I back off. But not before implementing a “try it to see if you like it” rule. They must at least take one bite before making any declarative statements. And, thus far, it’s working. Both are suddenly aficionados of brussels sprouts, mashed potatoes, salmon, edamame and couscous. Thank god, they have always liked cucumbers.
And the other night, in an attempt to foster more sophisticated palates, I held a taste test between store-bought and homemade fish sticks. Both kids gave mine two-thumbs up while Gorton’s received a sad sideways thumb. I will admit, I held my breath waiting for the reviews to come in and was relieved when they came back in my favor. Not sure how I would have recovered if the results had gone otherwise.
So for this divorce-inspired dinner, I made something I wouldn’t have previously, and something both my kids and I would enjoy: Sautéed salmon with brown butter cucumbers. The word “salmon” comes from the Latin word “salmo” and may have originated from “salire,” which means “to leap.” So in terms of thinking about leaping from marriage to divorce, this recipe is apropos.
Salmon are also known for making amazing journeys, sometimes swimming hundreds of miles upstream against strong currents and rapids. And anyone who has gone through a divorce knows the strength and grit it takes to make the journey. And in Celtic mythology, salmon are associated with wisdom and venerability — two attributes most divorces will offer.
I made the dish and it was super fast and easy, by the way. But, for the kiddos, I implemented some revisions: cut the garlic in half and omitted the dill. And for my portion, I tripled the garlic, doubled the dill and added a splash of white wine because I’m an adult. I served the fish with edamame and a grilled baguette. And while we were eating, I tossed all the iPads under the table and bored my kids with the salmon facts I mentioned above. Everyone ate more than one bite and all got dessert.
