Book 'em!

When I call Husband from work to come and pick me up, I count the seconds before our silver VW Jetta appears, weaving between the pumps and luxury cars at the gas station before it glides to a stop in the parking lot. I can’t wait to get home, shed my uniform, take a shower, and gently roll into my other life, laptop leaning against my legs, a Seabreeze misty and cold on the coffee table within an easy reach, and my family shadowing my field of vision every few minutes.

But on Thursday we had repairmen over at the apartment fixing a crack in the bath tub. They shooed Husband out and ordered him not to return until 3:00 PM at the earliest, because the fumes from the chemicals they used were noxious. I moaned in disappointment, dreading another hour that I would have to belong to the unwashed masses, partially mollified by the change of clothes that Husband offered when I reached the car.

Our youngest, Zoe, was in the back seat doing her usual imitation of the baby T-Rex, glasses askew, backpack leaning against her side, her hair mussed and disheveled, iPhone intermittently giving off signals that her virtual pies were done baking. Not able to return home for at least an hour, we decided to head over to “It’s a Grind”, our local coffee shop, conveniently situated a block away from Anya’s school. Also conveniently located a block away from Anya’s school is our City Library, and as soon as we remembered that, husband started weaving from lane to lane, back and forth, while we debated what sounded better.

With the last swerve to the left, we picked the library, hoping to get a cappuccino after we browsed through the book shelves. We are a family of book-worms, some of us affirmed and obsessed, some that don’t even realize it, some only in making. We are a family of five with five pairs of glasses and three pairs of contact lenses, the family of squinters, and the family that gets high from the smell of new books.

We looked for Watership Down for Zoe, who really likes animals and thinks she hates reading, and unable to find it, reserved a copy for next week. We stopped at the library store just in case, and the time stopped. We went three ways, excited and giddy, looking at the titles, pulling the books off the shelves, and piling them on the desk manned by an elderly couple. We felt like thieves, as every book in the place sold for 3 bucks or less, most for a mere dollar. Every ten minutes we would regroup and come together, to share in careful whispers of our precious finds.

An hour flew, and we scampered out of the library, Husband toting a huge paper bag full of books. We drove at Indy500 speed until we reached Anya’s school and parked in front to await the bell. Almost feverish, we started pulling the books out of the bag, leafing through and reading excerpts to each other. An unforgettable moment of bliss!

We live in a really small apartment and we have many books. It looks as though we are slowly transferring the regional library to a more convenient locale. There are book shelves in the living room, dining room, kids room, our bedroom and the closet. The only reason we feel guilty when we drag a bag like this one home is that we really have no place for more books until we move. Or until we start throwing out the furniture to accommodate the books. When Husband and I merged the households some thirteen years ago, he brought a ton of books to my little space that was already full to the brim with my own. In all these years we had to get rid of a lot of stuff for the lack of space, but the books, all of our books, remained. We have accepted the sad truth that we are the book hoarders.

The newly purchased bag of books sat in the living room like a Christmas tree for a night, loved with an eager longing, but… where the hell are all these books going to go? Our shelves are double and triple stacked. They are literally overflowing. Unhappy with its undeserved banishment, Husband decided to rearrange the furniture to find a loving home for our new acquisitions. I came home from work today to find our little apartment in complete disarray. I had to navigate furniture on the porch. I had to jump over the cables to get to the bathroom; I had to squeeze through a corridor of DVDs on my way to the bedroom; I had to dance around precariously grouped CDs on the dining room table; but I was relieved: we are paring down!  And this time I did not have to initiate the purge with Husband guiltily hiding the useless necessities behind his back in a vain effort to save them.

Our patio became a depository of soon-to-be donated items: a CD player, a DVD player, an old desk top computer, a printer, a TV stand. Buoyed by Husband’s enthusiasm, the girls started bringing miscellaneous stuff from their room, all of a sudden feeling generous and willing to part with boxes full of plastic toys, mangy stuffed animals, and old games. Safely fortressed in the bedroom, I followed the events from the distance, smiling in satisfaction, looking forward to a cleaner, more organized home.

My only task was to prepare dinner. I was not really jumping at the thought of going to the grocery store, and I did not feel sadistic enough to dispatch Husband to hunt the victuals. I rummaged through the pantry and the fridge, peeked in the freezer, and glanced at the produce bowl on the counter. With a touch of ingenuity, a dinner plan was formed: Shrimp and Scallops Creole, scrounged from small amounts of various ingredients I found around the kitchen. Can it get more thematic than that? While Husband was getting rid of stuff to bring some order and harmony into our lives, I collected edible bits and pieces to prepare a comforting, flavorful dinner perfectly capable of ruling the day with its bold, assertive notes hidden amidst the sweet and soft texture of the scallops, and somewhat firmer and briny taste of shrimp.

By the time I placed the steaming pot in the middle of the table, the living room was transformed. Clutter disappeared, the carpet was not merely visible, but vacuumed, the desert dust of California gone for a moment. Red wine mirrored the flames from the candles, and every face at the table shone with the healthy hue of accomplishment.

SHRIMP AND SCALLOPS CREOLE

(Roasted peppers are usually not used in this dish, but I had some beautiful roasted poblanos that just begged to be utilized. They added a smoky and piquant note that added a new layer to the meal.)

Ingredients:

• 2 Tbsp sunflower oil
• 1 large onion, diced
• 1 bell pepper (I prefer yellow, red, or orange), diced
• 2 stalks celery, diced
• 3 pasilla (poblano) peppers, roasted, peeled and destemmed (optional, I just had them available)
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 bay leaf
• 2 sprigs fresh rosemary (or ½ tsp dry)
• 2 sprigs fresh oregano (or ½ tsp dry)
• 1 tsp coarse salt
• ½ tsp cayenne pepper (more or less, to taste)
• ½ tsp freshly ground pepper
• 1 Tbsp flour
• ½ cup white wine
• 1 cup tomato sauce (I used whole tomatoes in juice and whirled them in my chopper)
• 1 ½ lbs scallops, rinsed, the foot removed
• 1 lb medium-large shrimp, peeled and deveined

Directions:

Heat a large, heavy skillet on a medium heat. Add oil, and when hot enough, mix in onions, peppers, and celery. Stir from time to time until translucent and soft, 5-8 minutes. Add roasted poblanos, garlic, bay leaf, and spices. Stir for another 2-3 minutes, and mix in the flour. Stir until combined, 1-2 minutes, and deglaze with white wine. Stir to loosen up the tasty layer on the bottom of the skillet. Add tomato sauce, stir to combine, lower the heat to medium-low, and simmer for 15-20 minutes.

Add the seafood and simmer for another 6-8 minutes, until shrimp is pink, and scallops opaque inside (if your shrimp is smaller, add it 3-4 minutes later).

Taste for seasonings and adjust according to the need.

Serve with plain white rice.