Dinner 12

And We're Back

It's been a couple weeks since I've made dinner for a guy. Besides the boring reasons like having a ton of deadlines and such, it's been really hard finding a decent date: mostly people over the age of 40 respond to my ad; the young, cute ones who I invite never get back to me; and one guy who I invited got weirded out that I had "FTM Welcome" in my add even though he didn't know what it meant (seriously? how can you be a middle-aged gay man and not know FTM stands for female-to-male? transphobic prick)!

Mango Kale Salad: I massaged olive oil into all of the crevices of the kale leaves and then sprinkled with fresh lemon juice. I added chunks of mango, chopped almonds and dashes of salt and pepper. Perfect summery salad.

I finally convinced a decent-sounding guy to come over and it was such a relief. He showed up cute, stylish, and with a bottle of wine. I mostly invited him because he said he didn't have a kitchen. This seemed soooo sad to me since my life revolves around cooking food. It turned out he had sort of lied. He does have a kitchen, but it doesn't function at all. The water doesn't run and the gas stove doesn't work. This is almost sadder. It's like a tease.

Quinoa Lentil Cakes: I fully cooked 1 cup of lentils and half a cup of quinoa. Then I mashed them together with a blunt object (a mortar or is it a pestle?) and added fresh cilantro, one egg, and a variety of spices. You can use whatever you like. I used garlic powder, chili powder, thyme and cumin. Then I made patties and fried until brown.

The kitchen was just the first of many complicated food issues of my guest. Since he doesn't cook he eats out a lot and considers himself a food snob even though he has no hand in making it. He blames this lack of cooking skills and need for good food from having grown up in Bakersfield, CA. Apparently it's the Texas of Cali and voted every year as the worst area in the country. You can't buy a single organic or fresh vegetable anywhere (even though the city apparently supplies carrots to the world). He grew up on food either out of a can or from a box and because of that he was a fat kid. He's still haunted by that phantom and works out like crazy to stay in shape.

Chicken Mushroom Stuffed Peppers: I cut one yellow and one green bell pepper in half and stuffed in a mixture of cubed chicken breast, yellow onion, baby portabella mushrooms and goat cheese with sprinkles of salt and pepper. I baked it at 375 for 20 to 25 minutes.

Despite the interesting food talk, I was intimidated. This was a real-life hipster in my kitchen: asymmetrical haircut, septum ring, cute sweater shirt, and fancy ankle boots. He talked about politics and critical theory and brought up Alice Waters whom he assumed I would know because she started the whole organic, home-grown, foodie movement in the Bay Area. He also said: "It's not a scene unless you're seen." I felt a bit over my head. I'm so not that cool, even though I've had asymmetrical haircuts and a septum ring in the past. Oh, and, of course, I own fancy ankle boots. What gay man in the city doesn't? Luckily, he wasn't pretentious as many hipsters are, and he didn't seem to mind my having not ever gone to some of his favorite bars and restaurants.

Apple Plantain Heaven: I fried 2 ripe plantains and a green apple with butter and cinnamon. Then I melted white chocolate and a slice of butter in a double boiler until smooth. I drizzled it on top: soooo yummy.

Overall the dinner was fun and funny, and we got along well. But considering my last dinner I was unwilling to even assume that my guest was at all interested in me. He excused himself when I offered another glass of wine (bad sign), but then he gave me a really nice hug as he left (good sign), and said I should facebook friend him (friend sign?). Such confusing signals or maybe not even signals at all. Doing these dinners has made me terribly aware and suspicious of any words or body language. Even though I can feel out flavors in the kitchen and intuit what strange ingredients will combine well, how can we ever know what another person desires? I'm tired of putting myself out there and getting rejected. I wish someone would figure out my desires and just feed them to me.