A Stoic’s guide to chow mein

This sounds defeatist, but things rarely turn out the way I like. There’s this nagging disappointment that follows me along like a lovesick puppy, but I always bounce back. It’s not exactly the power of positive thinking, but I remember things could be worse, and I get by OK.

But as always, I never leave much of anything alone. It was probably the chow mein noodles that sent me down the path to learn more about Stoicism, an ancient Greek philosophy that teaches us to focus on what is within our control and accepting that bad things in life is just the way shit goes down (my words).  

True learning will take some time, which I may or may not have if you believe the Stoics. They claim you should be ready for death at any moment. I admit, I’m not quite ready, and other than admitting I actually prefer to live, I don’t have much progress to report except I actually started reading Meditations by Marcus Arelius.

Eventually, if you want, I can put together a reading list. There are some interesting titles like How to Stubbornly Refuse to Make Yourself Miserable About Anything – yes, Anything! and Happiness for People Who Can’t Stand Positive Thinking.

But all this came after the chow mein noodles.

I’ve long been interested in cooking Asian noodles, but I didn’t know much about them. We live near a great Asian supermarket with all manner of fresh noodles, so I wanted to take advantage of a local resource. Appreciating nature – that’s another Stoic trait.

I found a couple of recipes for Chicken Lo Mein, which is what I might describe as a stir-fry with noodles, chicken, baby bok choy and a selection of aromatics. What could go wrong?

Since there’s really no such thing as lo mein noodles, you buy chow mein noodles. Sure, why not? Accepting reality is another goal here on the Stoic journey, so I quit bitching and purchased a bag of fresh chow mein noodles along with everything else I would need to make a spectacular dish.

One recipe called for cooking the noodles first. One recipe did not and the bag said to rinse them off first with hot water and then cold water. Something like that. I really really wanted to do what the bag said, but something told me not to. I went with straight out of the bag and into the wok.

Even though the noodles were “steamed” and sealed in the bag, they were quite dry and fluffy. The recipe called for 750 grams of noodles, and I will tell you now that is a shit ton of dry noodles. I stuffed as many of them as I could into the wok at the appropriate time and proceeded with the recipe.

The chicken and the other stuff was tasty, but so many noodles! And thick and gloppy. Not good. We ate what we could, and I put the rest of it along with the unused noodles down the garbage disposal. I had a hard time getting them to go down, but down they went.

The next day the garbage disposal was clogged. I went to get the plunger, but Dale said he’d do it, what with my broken arm and all. He cleared the path, and all was well. But the thing about reality, it that you never know when it will bite.

As it happens, Dale has had a minor setback on his road to recovery. Elvis the fractured pelvis is doing just fine, but Dale twisted his knee at physical therapy and now has a torn meniscus. I’ve had a torn meniscus, but you know, it doesn’t count because I’m not a man.

Anyway.

He’s having a hard time with the steps and decided to take a shower in the tiny little bathroom downstairs that we used when he first came home from the Skilled Nursing Facility. I retrieved the shower chair from the garage and went to set up everything for him, and there was this gross pile of foul-smelling crap all over the bottom of the shower floor.

What fresh hell is this? I got on my hands and knees to get a good look and all of the sudden it hit me. It was the chow mein noodles! What a disgusting mess, but I cleaned it up, with my good arm, and just prayed the drain wasn’t clogged completely.

Prayer is probably not a Stoic standard. I’m too new at this to be sure. But it seems to have worked. He has since taken several showers, and no more noodles, but my journey toward all things Stoic is coming in handy just the same.  

I mean, bad dinner and a plumbing incident. Who needed that? There’s Dale’s knee. My arm, which I broke, in case anybody forgot. Dale said at this point, how could anyone forget, a comment that at first made me mad, but then I remembered to accept good and bad with equal indifference.

Perhaps it is all as it was meant to be. See, I’m getting the hang of it. I’m once again in charge of dinner until Dale can get around a little better, but this time around I will be way smarter about everything. Slow, mindful. No more injuries for this little whiner.

And to celebrate, I’m making Lo Mein Noodles with pork and baby bok choy. This time around, I bought dried chow mein noodles at the regular grocery store, and I’m just going to do what the bag says.