THE VEGAN AND THE BARBARIAN

We have two fridges in our kitchen. We inherited them from the people we bought the house from. They’re great refrigerators, made in Germany -- not full-size -- only 22 inches wide, but there are two of them flanking a butler’s sink, and we’ve grown very fond of the set-up. Without talking about it, without a plan of any kind, the one on the right became Jill’s, and the one on the left is mine. Hers has a shelf for dairy-free yogurt, dairy-free cheeses, almond milk and two or three vegetarian soups that she can call on at a moment’s notice; the shelves on the door are filled with her vitamins and supplements; her crisper is chock-a-block with organic kale; her freezer features Dr. Praeger’s Meat-Free Burgers. We call this refrigerator The Vegan.

Then we move to the fridge on the left, where there’s a shelf dedicated to my pork collection -- wood-smoked bacon, pancetta, guanciale and prosciutto from Italy, jamón iberico from Spain and various sausages - fresh and dried, spicy and mild. Then, there’s a shelf dedicated to the world of umami -- anchovies, capers, olives, jarred sauces from China, Mexico and India, and a big chunk of Parmigiano Reggiano, which is the very essence of umami -- savory, nutty, intensely desirable. The shelves on the door are filled with bottles of wine and some half-and-half for my morning coffee. My freezer has frozen steaks, burgers, fries and spicy-chicken empanadas for emergencies. Also two or three kinds of ice cream. We call this fridge The Barbarian - for obvious reasons.

There’s a metaphor here, for sure. Two refrigerators, both alike in dignity, as Shakespeare would have said if they’d had refrigeration in those days, each expressing the needs and desires of its owner.

Jill’s instinct is to make herself better, to become good — physically, spiritually, emotionally, psychologically good. Yoga, stretching, oatmeal, supplements and supplements to supplement her supplements -- all stuff to make her good.

My instinct inclines the other way. “Be bad, man,” it whispers. “Be as bad as you possibly can be before you get too old to ever be bad again.” And by bad, I don’t mean that I want to hurt anyone or cheat anyone—not bad like that. I just mean to place myself in the way of pleasure and self-gratification as often as possible during the time I have left. Also, I’ll dabble occasionally in oblivion, which I find works wonders to relieve stress.

So, two people; two refrigerators.

And now I think I‘ll cool it with this metaphor.