The Secret Ingredient is %$#@*!

Today as I was making solstice soup (because nothing says summer like eating a steaming, hot bowl of soup under a grey, Oregon sky), I decided that what I really need is my own Food Network cooking show. Of course, because of my penchant for emphatically yelling things like "mother fucker!" when a can of fire roasted tomatoes explodes all over me because the magnet on the electric can opener is not nearly as magnetic as it would like for me to believe, there would have to be a parental warning. But that's ok, because I am pretty taken with the idea of actually having a cooking show that begins with the "this program is intended for mature audiences only" disclaimer. I'm telling you, I think think there's a market for me and my keepin' it real style of culinary magic. It's not like you'll ever hear that fussy looking Sandra Lee yell out "son of a bitch!" when she drops a platter of semi-homemade chalupas all over the floor.

Of course, the best episodes would be when my mother came on as a special guest chef. It would be just like when Giada flies her nonna in from Palermo (or wherever she's from), except for that my mom would just walk in from the living room. The fact that she lives with me would keep our show low budget. We'd (mostly) good naturedly bicker over how things were properly done. Eventually, something would go wrong, I would swear, she'd flip me off, and then we'd laugh. Seriously. I have never met a 70 year old more ready to go "birding" at the drop of a hat. Her fondness for her special finger - especially when there's a camera around - is all the more surprising given her otherwise strong feelings about "acting like a lady". A lady dockworker, maybe. But I digress...

The point is that we can cook and, thanks to a youth spent in the company of my father, I can also swear up a blue streak when the conditions are right. There can be something positively liberating in a well placed curse word, especially for those of us who spend 90% of our time with our tongues on lockdown. More importantly, however, while cookies might taste better when made with love, everyone knows that soups (especially the spicy ones!) taste better when made with passion.

p.s. Happy Solstice!