Whenever you have hungry teenagers in your home you can be expected to adopt a few survival skills regarding your favorite foods.
Whenever you have hungry teenagers in your home you can be expected to adopt a few survival skills regarding your favorite foods. It's no secret in the Marble house that I'm fond of cashews. If I buy a can of mixed nuts and that can still contains cashews by the time I drive home from Family Market, then something happened that distracted me, say an emergency phone call, winning the lottery, or an asteroid striking the earth.
I believe a large act of love is to limit myself to say three cashews; offering the remainder of the hidden nutty treasures to the rest of the Marble household. Unfortunately I've talked the talk but failed to walk the walk, and my cashew credibility is shot. That is unless my mother-in-law is involved.
What will be heretofore known as the Easter Eve Cashew Event, I openly sat at my dining room table this past Saturday evening, chatting and giggling with my mother-in-law Myrna Marble, while shaking out cashew after cashew after cashew from my often stingy little mixed nut can. Adding to the fun was Big Al sitting at the head of the table seemingly in shock as I kept producing, and his mother kept munching, the crown jewel of the mixed nut universe.
My inability to previously share cashews has been a topic of much discussion in our home. In fact at one time Big Al joked that across his headstone he wanted chiseled "The broad ate my cashews!" I just giggled and munched away.
For a long time I've cherished and cultivated my "favorite daughter-in-law" status with Myrna, and I'm sure that's what prompted my all too rare cashew generosity. Please don't feel compelled to point out to me that Myrna Marble probably tells each of us we're her favorites because I like my fantasy world interpretation. But, even more I enjoy a hardy good-natured bedeviling of Big Al, especially when I can conspire with his mother to eat every cashew in sight. And, as he chomped away on the left over peanuts, pecans, and hazel nuts I could hear him mumbling something about my phony three cashew limit. I think we will make the Easter Eve Cashew Event an annual affair.
Lori Marble writes a weekly column for the Daily News.