Just admit it. You’re a liar.
Before you get your knickers in a twist, I’m not referring to the fibs you tell your boss about why you are regularly tardy. Nor am I talking about that Facebook profile photo that took you 20 attempts and a good bit of Photoshop know-how.
The lies I’m talking about are victimless. Still, they are falsehoods that I too am guilty of — as is just about every person whose condition I’ve inquired about or called early in the morning.
Certainly you’ve asked a raspy-voiced someone on the telephone whether you awakened them and heard ‘no.’ When you are that someone who allows the ringing to interrupt your dreams, do you admit it to the caller?
I’ve never been able to determine why we offer up such an obvious falsehood. Are we all deep-down good people who don’t like the idea of making others uncomfortable? Or is that half-asleep lie just proof that we are natural-born phonies?
Just once, I’d like to reach down deep into my psyche and shoot straight with the caller.
‘…Um …. Hello?’
‘Oh my, Adam! It sounds like I woke you up. I’m so sorry!’
‘I feel really bad. Go back to sleep and I’ll call you later.’
‘Nope. I’m awake now. I was about to see what it was like to win the Irish Sweepstakes, but you felt the need to call me at 5 a.m. and ruin my dream.’
Lessons not learned
One of the most frequent lies we tell is to ourselves. How many times have you said or thought ‘I’ve learned my lesson?’ Lost count? (Me too.)
I’ve announced my lessons learned no fewer than 25 times in almost every case of saying the wrong thing, drinking too many glasses of Scotch or saying the wrong thing after drinking too many glasses of Scotch. I repeatedly learned the same lesson after every new car purchase or secret shared with a child of mine. The same lessons rear their heads each and every time I overindulge at Long John Silver’s or expect that my Whopper will look just like the one on the billboard.
Truth is, I’ll end up gazing again through an amber glass of vatted malt as I cry with slurred speech that my smashed Whopper has brought me great sadness. And my wife will undoubtedly admonish me when she hears from the children that Dad only agreed to overpay for the new car because the lady behind the counter was hot.
And I will (again) claim that I learned my lesson, obtuse twit that I am.
I’m fine. How are you?
Everybody’s lying during this exchange. The inquirer and the respondent. Indeed there are exceptions to every rule, but we often ask the question when we couldn’t care less about the answer. For the record, I’m not always fine. But I tell the same lie … over and over again. And so do you.
If I were to tell the truth, the conversation would go something like:
‘Hi, Adam. How are you?’
‘I ate a 10-piece family meal from Long John Silver’s last night and paid a huge price for it.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘Yeah. This month’s water bill is going to ruin someone’s Christmas.’
‘And I had too many glasses of Scotch with my greasy fish … Went to brush my teeth — was planning a little hanky panky with my wife — and accidentally used the hemorrhoid cream.’
‘My goodness. That sounds horrible.’
‘Absolutely! But none of that compares to what I said to my wife when she complained that my breath smelled like witch-hazel.’
Now, are you sure you want everyone to shoot straight?
Want to receive notifications of my Confessions, Chronicles and recipes in your email? Just click here. I’d also love for you to join me on Facebook (click the ‘like’ button), Pinterest and Google+. Why not witness some of my Instagram antics too? — Special thanks to Megan E. ‘Tough Recycler’ Hawkins at The Underground Writer for editing this piece.
If you sneak into the kitchen of most Chinese take-out joints, you’ll find that the stuff they’re preparing comes from about 5-6 basic sauce ingredients. (It’s the same with Tex-Mex.) Sesame Chicken is much like General Tso’s Chicken, except it offers more sweet and little spice. You can use chicken breast or thigh meat in this dish. It’s moist and juicy either way.
- 1 – egg white
- 1½ tsp – toasted sesame oil
- 1 TB – Soy sauce
- 1 TB – Brown sugar (packed)
- 4 TB – Cornstarch
- 1 lb – Chicken meat, cut into 1 - 1½-inch chunks.
- Vegetable oil, for frying
- ½ cup – Chicken stock
- ¼ cup – Soy sauce
- 3 – Garlic cloves, minced
- 2 TB – Brown sugar (packed)
- 1 tsp – Fresh ginger, minced
- 2 – Green onions, chopped or sliced thinly
- Toasted sesame seeds
- Whisk all batter ingredients in a medium bowl.
- Add chicken and toss to coat well.
- Set aside for about 10 minutes (or in refrigerator for 20-30 minutes).
- In another small bowl (or large measuring cup), mix chicken stock, ¼ cup of soy sauce and brown sugar; set aside.
- Preheat to high about a half-inch of vegetable oil in a deep frying pan. -or- Preheat your deep fryer to a high setting.
- Add chicken chunks. Don't overcrowd pan.
- Cook about 3-4 minutes, turning as necessary, until golden brown.
- Drain on paper plates.
- Meanwhile, heat about 1 TB of vegetable oil (medium high) in a skillet or saucepan and add ginger and garlic.
- Cook until fragrant, about 1-2 minutes. Add cooked chicken pieces to pan.
- Give the broth/soy sauce mixture another quick whisk and add to the pan, stirring constantly.
- The sauce will begin to thicken immediately and should be completed within 2-3 minutes of cooking.
- Garnish with sliced green onions and toasted sesame seeds. Don't forget the egg rolls!