One-hour Essay #1

March 1, 2009

We ate the inaugural lunch last night.
We were going to have some friends over for dinner. Usually the host provides the meat and the rest is brought by the others. I could tell that this was going to be one of those terribly hard decisions that are so hard because it doesn’t matter. We were brainstorming about what to have and Joyce said, “Let’s see what they had for dinner for the inauguration.” I could see that we were going to waste a lot of time on this, so I made a command decision: Let’s do it.
We were hit by opposition right from the start. There is no tradition among this group of friends for the host to actually dictate which recipe to use. One friend called to say how she didn’t have time and, besides, the recipes looked too hard and too expensive – and then chose the hardest one. No one wanted to do the “winter vegetables” even though they were only good old carrots, asparagus, and Brussels sprouts. In the end, everyone came through and we had a delicious dinner.
So, now that I know how to make cherry chutney, how to roast duck, and how to stuff pheasant (we substituted chicken), I ask myself why the Inaugural Committee chose what they did. Maybe this is why:
According to the Joint Congressional Committee on Inaugural Ceremonies, “The menu … draws on historic ties to the presidency of Abraham Lincoln.” They claim that “Lincoln’s youth in the frontier regions of Kentucky and Indiana gave him a taste for root vegetables and wild game that matured into a love of stewed sea foods as he got older.” That sounds way too un-political for today’s Washington. After all, the menu was decided by a committee. I think this is the more likely reasoning:
First Course: Seafood Stew that includes Maine lobster, sea scallops, large shrimp, black cod and veggies. The stew is to symbolize what the country is in. “The worst since the Great Depression.” Seafood because more than half of the citizens of the US – and the financial centers that got us into this mess – are on the two coasts. Maine lobster in honor of the solidly liberal Democrat New England states. Large shrimp (an oxymoron?) in honor of political double-speak in which one expression can have diametrically opposite meanings, depending on who is listening. Black cod is a reference to the historic inauguration of the first Black president. And veggies to signify how the government is going to tell us all how to be healthy.
Next, duck breast with cherry chutney and molasses whipped sweet potato: I am not sure if the duck is to symbolize the former president (lame duck) or the new president in the eyes of Republicans (sitting duck), or Congress in the eyes of the Democrats (rubber ducky). Cherry chutney comes from India where most of our jobs are. Molasses whipped sweet potato is one of those expressions common to politicians that includes everyone: molasses (Southern roots of the civil rights movement), whipped (again a reference to civil rights), sweet (government exists to make everything good) and potato (a reference to illegal immigrants from Latin America)
Then herb roasted pheasant with wild rice stuffing: This course is meant to promote the sometimes opposing interests of the NRA (pheasant) and the Native Americans (wild rice).
Accompanied by winter vegetables, including asparagus, carrots, baby brussles sprouts and wax beans. This is obviously pandering to the big-electoral-collage states of California and Florida. Where else can you raise “winter vegetables?” All also have double meanings: asparagus for the wealthy – sautéed in honor of the tax hike; carrots in honor of the poor – soaked in orange “zest” in honor of the tax credits; Brussels sprouts in honor of our new unity with (and similarity to) “Old Europe;” and wax beans (as opposed to un-waxed rough beans?) to remind us what most politicians are full of.
Finally, a third course of cinnamon apple sponge cake with a sweet cream glace. This was really good, by the way. I suppose the sponge cake was in honor of the way politicians sponge off the rest of us, and the sweet cream is what is skimmed off the top before it sent out of Washington.
There you have it – my one-hour essay. Holly said write it fast – under an hour – and don’t think too hard about it. I didn’t. In fact, I don’t believe half of what I wrote. I will leave it as an exercise to the reader to decide which half.