Pointing Fingers

“My father was a scholar delivering newspapers.”  Ambassador Mattie

The man I spent nearly nine years with is a scholar.  He knows more than anyone I know.  He has the kind of head that can take in all the details and repeat them at any point in time.  He’d hear an interesting story on NPR and tell you every bit of it.  I so admire that ability.  I hear an interesting news story and about all I can say is, “Something big happened!”  This man reads a lot.  He spends more time in books than in life.  He has over eight thousand books in his home shelved and scattered and piled high on all surfaces.  I’m not exaggerating.  The first time we made love, books were flying. 

Today my friend Mattie talked about her father who was brilliant but whose “life took a path where fulfillment eluded him.” Mattie shared that she loved him and was close to him, in spite of his incapacities.  As she talked about this, I first thought about how that was true of the man I was with.  He’s the smartest man I know but fulfillment eluded him: a scholar delivering newspapers. He wished he’d gotten his Ph.D.  He wished he’d gotten his library degree.  He wished he’d learned to dance.  He wished, he wished, he wished.

But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past few years, it’s the redirection of my finger.  A little buzzer goes off whenever I point a finger at someone else.  I turned that finger around and I saw how this was true of me.  I stayed in a relationship for many years that was not right for me. Many times I wished he would move away so I wouldn’t have to make the decision.  I wished someone would come along and whisk me away.  I wished, I wished, I wished.  I was a social scholar living ineffectively.  Just as I would tell him how to improve his life, to look for a job, to put down the books and join a choir, my friends would encourage me to end the relationship.  “You’re better than that,” was the message heard throughout the land.

So where does that flexible finger leave me?  I’m a little more compassionate, knowing that I can’t possibly understand, let alone judge his reasons for his choices, just as my friends couldn’t understand why I stayed with him.  I love this man still.  There are moments when I miss him terribly.  I am happier being alone than in a relationship with him.  I’m grateful I gained some scholarly wisdom and strength to leave him.  I’m not delivering newspapers now.  Besides, I couldn’t tell you what the stories are about anyway.  Something big happened!

However, I can remember all the details in this delicious recipe and I deliver it to you! 

Turkey Burgers with Chipotle Mayo

1 lb. ground turkey (I use free range because I care about turkeys even though they’re dumb.  Okay, so am I.)

¼ c. finely diced onions plus tears

½ c. finely diced zucchini

½ cup finely diced Portobello mushroom

1 T. tamari sauce (you can also try soy or Worcestershire sauce)

Salt and pepper to taste (I used about a ¼ t. salt and pepper.  Tamari has salt it in too.)

1-2 T. oil for cooking

It’s a messy job to knead this all up with your hands, but that’s what I do.  You can use a fork.  Form into four large burgers or five or six smaller ones if you like.  Heck, you could make twenty itty bitty ones as appetizers and use the chipotle mayo as a side dip.  What an excellent idea!  Why didn’t I think of that?  Heat oil in a skillet on medium high heat, carefully set burgers on hot skillet and cover, lowering heat to medium. Flip burgers when they look like they’re cooked through (about 3 minutes).  Top with feta or goat or your favorite cheese and cover for another minute just to brown the other side.

Combine 3T. of chipotle salsa (Trader Joe’s makes a really good chipotle garlic salsa) with 3 rounded T. mayo or Miracle Whip.  Adjust to taste.  I suggest toasting the buns or bread because these babies are juicy.  Garnish with fresh tomato slices and lettuce.  Remember to lick your own fingers before you point at the mess your companions are making.