Cod dinner!

Last night, *the boy* [I am forbidden to use his real name, the wimp] and I went to our local Trader Joe's, during rush hour no doubt. Without an ounce of inspiration de repas, we left with a mishmash of strange food products which was then magically transformed, by me, into a veritable thanksgiving feast of oven-baked cod, potatoes au gratin, cauliflower, and "Italian Medly" beans. This meal, a delightful change of pace for male-partner, was reminscent, for me, of midwestern church food . . . transporting the cosmopolite back to her modest youth of Wednesday dinners in "Fellowship Hall," where my favorite treat was the warmed dinner rolls. Since I was cute back then, Mr. Shaumann, who manned the roll-warmer, would sneak two on my plate, a much appreciated trespass since I would most often refuse the main liver and onions entrée. In any case, the nameless he with whom I live related to me the contents of a curious little book he's currently reading about how cod and their mating habits and travel patterns have had an historical impact on the migration and general whereabouts of European peoples. Who would have thought?