Exploding String Beans

On Mondays I work from noon to 9pm, and take a short break for dinner when the reference desk is slow, always with the circ desk knowing where I am so they can page me if someone needs help. Usually I bring a "TV" dinner, and tonight was no exception.

I have to laugh when I use that term. Back in the day, we knew how to make a "TV dinner." Usually we made them en masse after a holiday like Thanksgiving. Mom bought special aluminum trays with the divided sections that we reused. She would create an assembly line, and we would all plop our food item in the appropriate section, filling those trays to overflowing with potatoes, turkey, dressing, squash, and a touch of cranberry sauce. Then Mom would carefully crimp tin foil over the top and stack them in the freezer for a later date - some emergency meal when cooking wasn't convenient (translation, Mom wasn't home) or when unexpected company showed up.

What a treat it was to pop one of those holiday bookmarks into the oven. You drooled for the hour it took to reheat them, the air smelling more and more of holiday memories. Eating one left you stuffed - not at all like the skinny little half meals you get today, slenderized in their petite plastic trays.

Anyway, I popped my dinner into the microwave in the staff lounge, waited the appropriate four minutes,stir,one more minute, then peeled back the "saran wrap" for my evening repast. Although I am sure the chefs at Stouffers (what happened to be on sale this week) carefully prepared the meal in accord with all sorts of guidelines and regulations, I have to admit, I miss the tantalizing smell of the TV dinners of my childhood.

At least the meat was recognizable, and the vegetables a vibrant hue of green, as any self respecting string bean should be. Cognizant of the passing time, and not wanting to be away from the desk too long, I stuck my plastic fork into the stack of green beans, recalling with pleasure the fresh green beans straight from the garden, all soft and flavorful and juicy.

These were juicy all right. Water squirted from the top few beans. It took me a bit by surprise, but undaunted, I took another stab at them. Suddenly a dozen hard round seeds burst out of the stack of beans and flew across the room, landing on the coffee table, some of them sliding to the floor. For a moment, I stared in surprise, then I started laughing.

I couldn't help it, it was just so funny. I stabbed the pile of beans again, and more seeds went flying. This called for all out silliness. I stabbed the stack again and again, laughing at how far some of the seeds flew. One actually hit the window at the far side of the room. Man, it was such a hoot. A food fight without anyone getting messy!

OK, so the beans were too old and should not have been in the dinner. And I had to clean up the mess after I made it, but it was totally worth it. Cardboard food should not be allowed any dignity. I scraped what was left of the supposed beans into the trash, still laughing, and went back to the reference desk.

Perhaps I should send my Mother to the Stouffer kitchen to show them a thing or two about real food!