Like most women, my hair and I are in a constant love hate relationship. It loves to torment me, and I hate it. I was born with my Mother’s fine strands, but my Grandmother’s enormous volume of them. It is neither curly, nor straight. So, it requires either straightening or curling daily, before I feel presentable. On one particular Halloween, we were getting ready for the much anticipated parade of friends and family through our humble home, and of course, I was preparing snacks in my kitchen. I had been struggling the better part of the evening with costumes and accessories to prepare my children to go charm treats from our neighbors. I had curled my hair in the morning, but there had been no time to style it with any intention, because I still had to prepare the snacks for our guests. As I stood over the stove mulling cider, I was constantly bombarded by a mystical menagerie of ghouls and fairytale creatures with the strangest requests. I got a chuckle from the thought of a pirate asking for help buttoning his shirt and a dragon needing a scarf to keep his face warm. As I bent down to comply with each bizarre request, my hair fell into my face. I brushed it aside, annoyed that it had dared to interrupt such important work! Besides, I was worried that my magical night might end in tragedy if my hair caught fire as I cooked. As I reached for the strainer in the back of one of my cabinets, my locks again dutifully reminded me of their needs too. Exasperated, I searched for the clip that I kept in my kitchen. It was bejeweled with red crystals in a flower pattern and made me feel slightly more put-together whenever I swept my hair back with it. What I had forgotten, was that my little princess was wearing it that night. And I literally mean princess, but since the costume's tiara was too rough on her scalp, we had used my beloved clip as an acceptable substitution. She was a vision, and I was out of luck! As one of my bangs curled its way into my line of sight for the third time, I desperately scanned the kitchen for a twist tie, rubber band or anything that could just keep it at bay until I could finish cooking. I spotted a lone green chopstick peeking from the pile of drying dishes. I remember when I washed it, that its mate was missing, but I was reluctant to toss it, because it was a beautiful color green. I quickly swirled it through my ponytail and triumphantly ran it through the resulting twist. That would do the trick! I strained the cider and plated the caramel apples just in time for my husband to announce that it was time to trick or treat! I shouted from the kitchen for them to give me five minutes to do my hair. (I was going as a butterfly and needed to look pretty.) He looked at me puzzled and shrugged as he walked away. But as I ran around the banister to climb the stairs, I caught a glimpse of my chopstick-do in the port hole mirror at the bottom of the stairs. And to his surprise, I put some deedley-boppers on my head and walked past him through the front door. As it turned out, my hairstyle looked more elegant than any I would have been able to coax it into in the next five minutes. I congratulated myself, as we raced to catch up to our brood, on my fairytale ending of simple elegance. I marveled at its simplicity and at the fact that my kitchen had come to my rescue providing me with the perfect accessory. I silently congratulated myself for having achieved a feat regaled in numerous beauty magazines as the ultimate style quest--simple elegance. As the kids ran up the drive of the very first house of the night, I soaked in the joy of and magic of the night. But as I watched all the candy-crazed mystical creatures running about, I realized that it was a unique moment. Like most of the best memories a person has, there was no record of it, no reference point to refer back to and no chance of recreating it. It was simply an elegant memory in my mind. As for recreating it, impossible! After all it would require: one cooking hazard, a little pressure from a pirate and a dragon, one princess with a very sensitive scalp, and a lonely but lovely green chopstick.
Recipe: Simply Elegant Chicken
1- 1/2 pounds of boneless chicken thighs
1 medium onion coarsely chopped
1 green pepper coarsely chopped
1 can of (Contadina brand) diced tomatoes in Burgundy wine
Add olive oil to a frying pan set to medium high and sauté onion and pepper until glassy. Increase heat and sear chicken on all sides. Reduce heat to medium and add can of diced tomatoes. Cover and let simmer for about 25 mins (or until chicken reaches 180 degrees internally). If sauce gets too thick, add a little water and/or reduce heat a bit.
Serve over mashed potatoes.
Question of the week: What food is the epitome of simple elegance for you?
