I'm trying to divert my mind with some discipline tonight, as to where things could have gone, and just focus on the fact that everything has worked out OK, and everyone in the house is fine.
I'm fine - the guys are fine, and the fridge has been reviewed by the super-awesome Don from pest control.
It's hard not to think things like "this vegan experiment could have killed me, or Harrison, or Bill". Or, as my dad said "the evening could have been tragic".
One of the hardest parts of my divorce was having to kill my own spiders? I've often joked about this, but it's true. I'm arachnophobic.
Not the best thing to be when a black widow spider kicks your upper lip after falling off the grape you're about to put into your mouth. Four grapes, to be exact, in my hand, scooped out of the collander after a great restaurant-inspired vegan appetizer.
Harrison wanted to go to Foia tonight for Calamari. I loved the idea, until I remembered that this month, I'm a vegan. But I had tofu in the fridge and the thought of re-creating a calamari-like dish inspired me. I "breaded" the tofu strips with crushed potato chips, after dipping them in a combo of dijon, soy sauce and olive oil. I crisped them in coconut oil on all four sides, and served them with a dipping sauce of fresh garlic, green onions, olive oil, dijon, lemon juice and some toasted sesame oil. Writing this paragraph is the most calm I have felt all night, since it is about making something delicious - through adding flavour.
During the prep, I thought I would blog about depth of flavour. I thought I would blog about the fact that chicken (or tofu) really doesn't have an independent flavour, and what we can DO to it can make it great. I thought I would be blogging about blank canvasses.
Instead, I am really upset that I could have been taken out by my quest for a fresh fruit prompted by the very same vegan experiment.
Bill joked that it was ironic that if I hadn't been buying so much fresh produce, and rather had been relying on processed, McCrap, that this probably wouldn't have happened. I am sure I wouldn't have just tossed into the garbage (quite gladly!) ANY fresh produce which was in my fridge. The expensive green onions. The gorgeous Essex County "chef's mix" fresh mushrooms. The expensive organic celery.
And the crisp green grapes that were her home for a while, and in my home since Sunday. I packed a bag of grapes for Harrison's lunch this morning, and put the collander on the counter, grabbed a bunch, and put it back. Realized Bill needed a snack, grabbed another bunch (recall struggling with the stem) and put it back again. I probably threw out $30 worth of produce because of what was living in my fridge.
Yep - I'm one of those people who have had a black widow spider crawl out of their grapes. She wiggled across my lip, enough for me to drop the other three grapes. As she fell to the floor, my mind raced.
A spider.
On a grape. Wait-a-minute! It couldn't possibly be a black widow spider, one of the very reasons I stopped buying grapes in the first place? (They're from such foreign locales, loaded with spiders!)
No - not in my home, seriously. I grab a plastic mis-en-place bowl, and put it right over her. Then, I go to the web.
SPIDERS IN GRAPES.
Immediately, the black widow spider stories pop up. I'm on the phone with 911 when she says "are you sure it's a black widow?" and I'm not. The website indicates you can tell a female black widow spider by the red hourglass shape on the belly. The belly? It's facing the floor, darn it!! And just as she says it...the new visitor to our house tries to crawl up the bowl, and there it is.
The red hourglass.
I've stopped hyperventilating now. I've called the supermarket, the pest control guy has the spider and is freezing the body. I called the provincial pest control office to "report" it.
Having said that, I will never ever buy grapes again.
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