I was cooking some hot dogs in the micro last nite when Kris commented that I had the whole process "down to an art." I put two hot dogs in the micro for exactly 30 seconds then I roll them over for another 20 seconds and the last ten seconds I throw a tortilla shell on the dogs. Now this accomplishes several things. First the dogs are cooked to perfection, they have just started to bubble and split. I can watch them start to swell and split and have that kinda brown look to them. Next, the tortilla is perfectly warm and pliable at ten seconds. I then toss the dogs into the tortilla shell, apply ketchup, wrap and chow down. I call them burrito dogs.
What does this have to do with hot chocolate you might ask? The dot to connect is DAD. I remember when we got our first microwave. 1970? 72? not sure of the year. But I remember the ritual Dad used to go thru every morning. Put nestle quick into a mug (I really liked those mugs) pour milk, stir for 47.6 seconds, tap spoon on side of mug, (3 times),place mug into microwave and turn monstrously huge dial to 2:30, hit start and proceed to toaster. I would watch the microwave in anticipation of the volcano to come. If I watched close enough I could see the first hints of the coco heating up. It seemed that it would actually twitch just a little, don't blink Dave or you might miss it. It would twitch a little more and faster as time went on. Ever notice the sound of that microwave? It would hum really loud and vibrate a little. Wonder how much micro matter escaped from that thing. Anyway, I would watch as the coco mountain started to grow. The top layer of coco would kinda skim over and create that bubbly canvas over the cup and then it would mutate into several new bubbles all over it. That canvas would start to rise up higher and higher until it was well over the rim of the cup. I would watch and wait for it to burst and splatter all over the inside of the oven...and just as it reached it's critical mass the microwave would ding and kinda chhhhuuunk all at the same time. The light would go off and the mountainous mass of coco would collapse upon itself and disappear into the cup from whence it came.
Dad would open oven, stir 7 times, taste test with spoon, then commence to eat his two pieces of buttered toast, done to perfect golden brown, and sip his coco.
Now that is art, that is poetry in motion.
Thanks Dad.
Dave
2 comments:
Oh my gosh Dave, that is so perfect!! I think about that hot cocoa often, not sure why. It's just one of those memories; as is the shakes from Burger King that nobody could slurp but Dad. I remember back after church on Saturday nights going to BK and having to ride home for 7-8 miles, smelling it and not allowed to have our shakes. I could never do that now, fast food is to be eaten RIGHT NOW. Nor could I let a shake get so warm without drinking it. EEEWWWW.
thats nuts, wait it's 6:35am, I must grab my coffee mug fill it 80% and add 4 Ice cubes, wouldn't want to burn my mouth. Top of mug, back and to the left, back and to the left, back and to the left.
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