Date: Fri 12-Feb-1999

Publication: Bee

Author: CURT

Quick Words:

Mountain-microwave-Valentines

Full Text:

TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN

Cabin fever produces some rather odd flourishes to our lives each winter, and

for some reason this season brings out the sense of creative adventure among

the diners in The Bee's lunchroom.

The tiny lunchroom downstairs at The Bee isn't exactly set up for gourmet

cooking, but some days some pretty good smells waft up into the offices from

down there. We don't have much in the way of kitchen appliances -- just a

toaster oven, a microwave, and a refrigerator. For some reason, the microwave

inspires the most creativity among the hungry denizens of the lunchroom.

Back in December, one editor found he could roast chestnuts in the thing, and

suddenly the office smelled like it had been transported to the chestnut

vendors' carts on the streets of New York.

And every year, sometime in the weeks before Easter, there is a ritual

microwave sacrifice of a Peep. Peeps, if you don't have kids, are those garish

yellow marshmallow chicks that hatch out all over the grocery and drug stores

in the run-up to Easter. When microwaved, the chicks balloon to about the size

of Big Bird before they collapse in on themselves. Every year at least one

Peep suffers this hideous fate down in the lunchroom.

So in a kind of inevitable chicken-and-egg progression, it seemed only natural

that someone would eventually try to "hard boil" an egg in The Bee's

microwave. That someone turned out to be Dean Applegreen, who, as he labored

to clean out the microwave after the predictable and truly spectacular

eggsplosion, insisted that he had successfully cooked an egg this way before.

I didn't see too many people jotting down the recipe, though. Fortunately,

that great microwave in the sky seems to be getting stronger day by day, so

with luck, we may get an early reprieve from cabin fever.

Down at the Newtown Country Club they seem to favor less bizarre

entertainments than we do in our lunchroom, even when winter weather forces

the golfers to stay in the clubhouse and off the links. Joe LaCava and the

boys at the clubhouse were playing cards Wednesday afternoon, though their

minds were clearly on the warming weather outside. The ground was still a

little too soggy for a round of golf, but they assured me that first thing

Thursday morning, the golf clubs would be out of the bag.

Wednesday's warm weather didn't keep the ice fishermen off Taunton Lake. "The

ice is ten inches thick," one angler announced. For others, it was simply too

warm out to do any ice fishing. It has to be downright hyperborean for them to

drop a line.

Legislative Council member Ed Lucas interrupted last week's council meeting to

inform chairman Pierre Rochman that his wife, Joanne, was knocking on the

window. Poor Joanne. She had gotten locked out of the library. Pierre, always

the attentive husband, quickly ran out to let her in.

Mary Kelley in the first selectman's office barely had the cast off her foot,

injured while dancing, when she wound up injured again. This time, she shut

her hand in a door at the town hall, smashing two fingertips. Fortunately, a

visitor in the first selectman's office at the time also happened to be a

paramedic. When last seen, Mary was sitting at her desk with her hand in a bag

of ice, explaining on the phone to her husband, Mike, why he'd have to cook

dinner and do the dishes.

I guess it's time to issue my annual shameless plea for Valentine's Day cards.

Last year I only got one, from Tiger Baby Kearns, who earned my undying

affection and gratitude with that simple gesture. Who, if anyone, will come

through for me this year? To find out, you will have to...

Read me again.