Home Life Laurie Nigro Hidden in plain sight: Why can’t my husband find anything in the...

Hidden in plain sight: Why can’t my husband find anything in the kitchen?

My husband and I have been together for 20 years. For the majority of that time, we have shared a living space. From our first, grungy, little apartment that sported the required futon couch and felt like a boiling sardine can the minute the temperature rose above 70, to our current home sweet home of nearly 13 years that has witnessed the birth of our youngest child, we have been constant roommates. You would think that after all these years, he would know where to find the freaking sugar.

I love the food that Brian makes. He’s fastidious about following recipes (except when he’s not) and has yet to make anything inedible. In fact, his culinary skills are quite good. And yet, I rarely want him to cook. I pretty much dread it.

I won’t rehash the horrifying mess that comes with Brian’s kitchen adventures (if you missed it, you can read all about it here http://www.riverheadlocal.com/2014/12/28/kitchen-transformed-not-good-way/). I’ve lived it enough to bear the mental scars. But, there’s more to Adventures with Brian than just the overflowing sink.

My husband, a highly intelligent man who can easily and coherently explain complex chemical reactions, is incapable of finding the milk in the refrigerator. I cannot count the amount of times he has called me, when I am out of the house and he is home, to locate items for him. One time, when we had lived in our first house for over a year, I got this phone call, at work:

“Where are the spoons?”

I’m not kidding. Our first house was one thousand square feet. Our kitchen had four drawers. Four. Sometimes I wonder, if I left him in the woods, would he get eaten by wolves?

As I was writing this, my phone rang. We’ve been at this so long that all he said was, “Molasses.” After I identified the location, he said, “Bay leaves.” Again, I named the cabinet and shelf. At this point, I must remain on the line until he has acquired the elusive items. If I do not, instead of looking harder, he will just go out and buy a replacement. No matter if I have a 32 ounce jar of molasses that will last for six more years. Now, I have two.

So okay, molasses are not an everyday staple. I probably use them only once or twice a year. But we used the bay leaves less then a week ago. And really, even barring the recent usage of this pantry favorite, it’s on the spice shelves. With all the other spices. The same shelves that have held our spices for every day of our 13 years in the house. Do you see the crazy here?

This lack of memory when it comes to the setup of our house would be frightening if it wasn’t so damn annoying. It’s one thing if he needs my help when I’m idle, but that’s rarely the case. Instead, I’m usually in the middle of my own project (like making all the side dishes) and have to drop everything because he’s at some critical juncture in the recipe and shockingly, he has not prepared his ingredients and/or utensils. He panics, to the point of near hysteria, until I step in.

And then, there are the clean dishes. Nobody loves doing dishes. It’s un-American to enjoy washing or putting away dishes. However, unless we want food borne illnesses, clean dishes are a necessary evil. But the true evil is that Brian still doesn’t know where all the clean things go.

Sometimes, he asks. Sometimes, he shoves it wherever he deems appropriate. And the places he deems appropriate are wrong. Physically and emotionally, wrong.

Again, I do not have a large kitchen so it doesn’t usually take long to locate the misplaced item (except when he put the milk in the pantry. I just didn’t think to look there for at least 15 minutes), but it’s the principle of the thing. It’s been 13 years. I think it would be a good-faith move to put in some effort and spend some time familiarizing himself with the most used room in the house.

I’ve often lamented to my mother, over a cup of tea in her kitchen, about this maddening, and specific, amnesia. But before she has the chance to offer me any wise and worldly motherly advice, we are interrupted by my father who needs to know where he can find the limes. And then I know that we are defeated. Dear God, we are defeated. (By the way, limes are in THE FREAKING FRUIT DRAWER).

There’s nothing left but to start drinking. Move over dad, I need a damn lime for this one.

With spring in the air, it seems fitting to bring mint into the recipe. Can you say mojito? Though most recipes are pretty similar, I like this one from www.allrecipes.com  best.

Mojito
Serves one.

Ingredients
10 fresh mint leaves
1/2 lime, cut into 4 wedges
2 tablespoons white sugar, or to taste
1 cup ice cubes
1 1/2 fluid ounces white rum
1/2 cup club soda

Directions
Place mint leaves and 1 lime wedge into a sturdy glass. Use a muddler to crush the mint and lime to release the mint oils and lime juice. Add 2 more lime wedges and the sugar, and muddle again to release the lime juice. Do not strain the mixture. Fill the glass almost to the top with ice. Pour the rum over the ice, and fill the glass with carbonated water. Stir, taste, and add more sugar if desired. Garnish with the remaining lime wedge.

I think I might just make a whole pitcher. It’s been a long 20 years.

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Laurie Nigro
Laurie is the mother of two biological children and one husband and the caretaker of a menagerie of animals. Laurie is passionate about frugal, natural living. She was recognized by the L.I. Press Club with a “best humor column” award in 2016. Email Laurie