Most people serve sake warmed. I've never had it any other way. I inherited a bottle of Yaegaki through a friend's kitchen remodel. But I'm not sure it was taken care of properly. I didn't know it was in the bag of liquor for days. I thought we were getting Blue Curacao and vermouth remnants. It should have been chilled. It could be a tad "off" but how am I to know what is good or bad. I'm no connoisseur. In fact, I just read a taster's comment on ratebeer.com that said "jet fuel and alcohol bouquet" or something.
Anyway, I fixed it over ice with San Pelligrino, and a floater of gewurztraminer that my wife inadvertently opened.
I've still barely had a sip of it because it really isn't that rad. It's just killing the old taste of dinner from a few hours ago.
I had just a sip or two of the jet fuel while doing the dishes and timing my eight-year-old on practice tests of single digit multiplication tables...9x4, 5x5, etc. She got done with her first one with one second to spare and only missed one. I took a break from the dishes and reset the oven timer. I sat down to take the test with her and I asked Regan to find the START" button.
"What letter do you think "sssstaaart" starts with?"
Anyway, I finished with 1:45 remaining. When Avery was done I asked her to check mine against hers and see if any are different.
"Don't assume I got them right".
We argued over 9x4. "Nope. It's 36. What's 4x10? Now subtract 4." (I am pretty sure that this kind of instruction is pretty backward and I look forward to the teachers in my life having a laugh.)
The sake seemed to have turned on a different part of my brain and turned off another. I missed 3 problems. And they were the three on the test that included a zero. 3x0... I put "3", 9x0 I wrote "9". And I belly laughed when Avery showed me. It was the kind of laugh you do just to hide that much shame in an instance that doesn't matter. Then that other part of my brain that doesn't get exercised jumped up and said to Avery, "When do you ever work out a problem in real life with a zero?!!?"
I put my hand in the pockets of my fleece housepants and dramatically questioned to her "Let's see,... if I have nine pockets of nothing how much money do I have?"
A poignant statement in a recession I reckon.
