Unhappy cooks

Warning: If this column starts off sounding too much like Andy Rooney, I apologize.

You already know that we humans are creatures of habit. And you know that our habits, good or bad, are hard to break. For example, I still salt just about everything I eat, except for desserts. It drives my wife crazy. She accurately points out that I should taste my food first to see if it needs salt. Heck, I know I like salty food.

What we have here is the nucleus of an ongoing difference of opinion that has lasted 40-plus years. I don't see it ending anytime soon.

What my wife and I agree on, however, is that almost all meat dishes -- stew, roasts, chili, soup and anything broiled -- require a good splash of Worcestershire sauce and plenty of ground black pepper.

Both of us cook at our house. And when the big outdoor grill is involved, I'm in charge. Grilled food, as you well know, requires Worcestershire sauce and pepper.

I can't tell you how many years we have bought the same brands of Worcestershire sauce and ground black pepper. That's a habit as much as anything. And both of these products have had, for at least 40 years, screw-on caps that must be removed before Worcestershire sauce or pepper can be dispensed.

Not any more.

Both now have fancy-dancy flip-open caps. Whoever invented them probably thought it would be easier. He probably got a gazillion dollars for his patent. But if you unscrew either of these newfangled caps, the contents come rushing out unimpeded.

How long, do you think, will it take the two of us to break our habit of taking off the caps of these two products when we use them?

Let me tell you that it's no fun picking through a potful of meat and vegetables trying to remove half a cup of pepper. It's no fun when you douse the grill fire with a deluge of Worcestershire sauce.

The fellow who dreamed up these flip-open caps -- I'm sure it was a man, because no woman would have messed with something that worked so well to begin with -- wasn't bright enough to add an essential part to his invention: the motion-activated digital warning that shrieks "Stop, Joe! This is a flip-open lid!"

I can't even begin to tell you how many new gadgets should have warnings like that.

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I appreciate the many expressions of concern you have made regarding my wife's Aunt Minnie, the one who was beaten and kicked by a robber. Some of you, especially those of you who have never participated in a downtown golf tournaments, wonder if Aunt Minnie is a real person or someone I made up so I could dash off an easy column.

I assure you that Aunt Minnie is real. Trust me. No one could make her up.

Likewise for Miss Kitty, a real flesh-and-blood furry animal with needles for claws.

During what little cold weather we've had this winter, Miss Kitty has been a great lap warmer.

Our house tends to be on the cold side year around. In the summer we have the air conditioning going full blast to help keep our allergies under control. And in the winter we turn the thermostat way down because we sleep better in the cold -- and because we're trying not to give the gas company all of our money.

So when I'm sitting in my recliner, Miss Kitty is in my lap and doesn't mind at all when I slip my cold hands next to her warm tummy.

Miss Kitty has two sleeping positions when she's in my lap. One is curled up in a tight ball with her paws over her eyes. When she's in that position, the New Madrid Fault could go bonkers and she wouldn't notice.

The other position is on her back with all four legs sticking in the air. Very undignified, my wife tells Miss Kitty.

Miss Kitty isn't terribly concerned. After all, we're the ones who can't remember to flip the lid on the Worcestershire sauce and pepper.

The cat once again has demonstrated why she is the superior animal.

R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.