Friday, January 16, 2015

Reason #53,807 why I Love My Husband

I was rummaging through the freezer looking for dinner possibilities when a package of antelope meat fell at my feet. "Antelope Noisettes," it read. I'd forgotten it was in there, but I remembered buying it: months ago, I needed several pounds of venison for a fancy dish I was serving at a party. When I went to order it from a game farm online, it turned out that shipping was wicked expensive, but you got free shipping once you'd ordered a certain amount of meat. Essentially, for the same amount of cash, I could either get the venison I wanted, or I could get the venison I wanted plus some frozen antelope and a package of teeny tiny frozen quail. Seemed like an intelligence test.

"Noisette" is French for hazelnut, I think, but I examined the package carefully and I'm pretty sure they're just small antelope steaks, not antelope nuts. I draw the line at eating reproductive organs.

Anyhow, when my husband came home I was setting ingredients out on the kitchen island. "What's for dinner?" he asked.

"Antelope," I said.

"Antelope?" he said. Pause. "What's that taste like?"

I said, "No idea."

"So," he said, "umm--Shiraz?"