Joyce Chen and Susan B. Anthony

The Mr. was never much of one for domestic work. He will take the trash to the curb, mow our lawn, and haul a laundry basket up and down stairs pretty regularly, but once we started having children - and given that I have no talent for, nor any interest in Wall Street - we stopped practicing and just divided the work load in a traditional way. Chemo and the resulting fatigue really put a damper on the domestic fire burning away previously around here - even with the added daily help of a very close friend (the vegetarian) and our many incredibly supportive friends and family. There is a time during the treatment cycle when one isn't even supposed to touch a sponge so we relied pretty heavily on others who generously provided help including meals for us when I was down. You won't hear from me how cancer "changed my life in some amazing way" because for me cancer really, really, really sucked arse. BUT, it did come as an unexpected benefit, a joy and delight really, resulting from this rather unpleasant time that the Mr. decided to learn to cook Chinese!

Where to begin? We all love Chinese food, it is a cuisine that I have absolutely zero talent for, each one of us four prefer a different take-out restaurant so at least one is grumpy when we order in, and if the Mr. is Cookie then I get a break from the stove for a night. It gets better even. At this point he is able to go off recipe - kitchen commando with the Szechuan Pepper if you will - and the results would make Joyce Chen herself smile down from Chef Heaven with a knowing, satisfied, motherly kind of smile having successfully inspired, and transfered her hard earned culinary artistry, to a white guy from Maryland.

Last night's dinner was so good, and except for a bunch of scallions consisted entirely of what we had on hand. It all began with the Kung Pao chicken based on a recipe from Joyce's daughter's book Helen Chen's Chinese Cooking (which the Mr. can whip off in his sleep at this point). Over the years he has found that cracking peanuts out of the shell makes a big difference in the dish, so our daughter and I set to the task while the boys prepared the ingredients. There is always a "Chinese Food Napalm" moment when the Szechuan Peppers hit the hot oil and every living creature (except for Mr. Cookie of course) go running out of the house coughing and gasping for fresh air. It is good to point out here that if Cole Valley is ever under siege we are able to arm the resistance from our pantry. The rest of the cooking is a blur to us really - we hand over a ramekin filled with ginger or sauce, or hold out a serving dish to be filled by the chef who is busy holding on to the one wok handle with a towel, but that is about it. I don't even know exactly what he did to make up the pork dish so good, but he did use a couple of the brined chops we didn't cook the night before, celery, carrots and garlic because that was all we had on hand. Really tender and tasty and spicy and salty and just so much better than Andy's I can not tell you!

When we were kids my parents would (for special occasions) take us to Joyce Chen's restaurant on Fresh Pond in Cambridge MA., or more often to Peking Garden in Lexington MA (home of the amazing Szechuan Pickles and Pork soup that I would love to find a recipe for if anyone out there can help). The food was always stunningly good and we were on our best behavior except that the "whirling domestic" in the center of the table was just too awesome - too enticing - too darn fun to not give an extra spin under the guise of just really needing one more cup of tea. We now use the term "whirling domestic" which predates the more common "lazy Susan" for the following reason uncovered by my sister in law this summer: Legend has it that the term was officially coined in reference to Susan B. Anthony in 1868 by political leaders opposed to her efforts supporting women's suffrage. The term began to surface after an attempted effort by Anthony to make a case for gender equality by denouncing a woman's 'duty' to fulfill cooking needs within the household. However, her adversaries dismissed the idea as an effort to disguise her laziness, hence, referring to her in the papers as "Lazy Susan".

The irony of last night's dinner being prepared for me is not lost on me.