Go On When I Close My Eyes

Where exactly does a story begin?

Dad: This ain't gourmet, but it is palatable. And, as Jim says when we're on the radio, "I'm not looking for a Nobel prize; we're just trying to get to noon..."

IMPOSSIBLY EASY HAM & BROCCOLI QUICHE 9 inch pie pan, greased
1/2 cup Bisquick
2 eggs
2 tablespoons butter
3/4 cup milk
Blend above ingredients.
Stir in:
1 cup cooked ham, diced
3/4 cup shredded cheddar or Swiss cheese
Pour into pie pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 to 45 minutes until knife inserted in middle comes out clean.

Tata: This is more funnier - like - because there ain't no - how you say - broccoli in that ingredient list. So it's magic!

Dad: Yes, it is. And it's even more magic because your sister called me and said, "What can you do with leftover ham? Whatever it is, I have to have everything I need in my house already." I was expected to immediately give her 57 ideas - like Heinz's 57 varieties - so I did a google search "recipes for leftover ham with ingredients Daria already has." Google told me that "for" and "with" were unnecessary grammatical markers and "already has" has no ontological significance.

So, in addition to being clairvoyant about her cabinets and that garage space that will never see a car, there can be - I suspect you didn't know this - broccoli, by sheer force of will. It's a new culinary approach in keeping with not burning whales or killing rain forests for their blubber. You just will it into being, choosing organic of course, and - poof - there it is.

Or it could be punishment for making Google work for a nanosecond on food they don't like.

Ah! This is a trick question. Where does the story begin? In earliest childhood, where little girls believe daddies can see all and have magical powers: New Brunswick, NJ, 08901.