Every once in a while, you feel fatigued or cranky and you
don’t know why. Then you realize something is amiss in your
diet, and the world makes sense again. Sometimes you’re
missing meat. Sometimes it’s fresh vegetables. Sometimes
you’ve overdone it with the refined sugar.
And sometimes the person with the problem isn’t you.
You step into your apartment to discover your roommate sprawled
motionless on the couch, surrounded by soda cans and candy
wrappers. Come to think of it, he was in that exact position when
you left yesterday. And the day before. And the day before.
“I’m dying,” he moans. “The gout. It got
me bad.”
“Do you even know what gout is?” you ask.
He whimpers and turns over, crinkling his cellophane fortress.
“I’m tired and I can’t move. It hurts something
awful. That’s gout.”
“Not … really,” you respond. “Have you had
anything but Twizzlers and Diet Coke all week?”
“Diet Coke makes your bones grow,” he mumbles.
This is getting ridiculous. Clearly he just hasn’t eaten
anything nutritious in days, and if you leave him to his own
devices, he’ll lie there in his own stink indefinitely,
leaving you to clean up the cans and wrappers that are slowly
consuming the living room.
You’re going to have to feed him.
Beef stir-fry is ideal for this situation. It incorporates three
food groups into one simple dish, and the iron and protein-rich
beef boosts energy.
Start with a pound of precut stir-fry meat or slice a pound of
flank steak into bite-sized pieces. Meat is much easier to cut if
it’s been in the freezer for half an hour so that it’s
cold and stiff but not frozen.
Hand your roommate a glass of water to tide him over. He’s
probably dehydrated from all that caffeinated soda.
“Don’t mock me with your voodoo medicine,” he
says, snapping open another Coke.
Dump the beef into a bowl and douse it with a quarter cup of
teriyaki sauce. Let it marinate in the refrigerator for an hour
while you prepare the rest of the meal.
Suggest to your roommate that he might feel better after taking
a shower.
“Will it wash the gout off?” he asks.
“Definitely,” you reply while he contemplates the
idea.
Chop one bell pepper, half of a red onion, two cups of mushrooms
and half a cup of carrots into thin, bite-sized pieces.
When he thinks you aren’t looking, your roommate
cautiously sits up and starts to sip the glass of water. Ignore the
stick of licorice propped behind his ear, because if you start
snickering now, it might scare him off.
Saute the vegetables: Cook them in a lightly oiled pan over
medium heat until the onions are somewhat transparent and the
carrots are tender. It should take about seven minutes. Set the
vegetables aside.
Glance at the couch, surprised, when you hear water running in
the next room. Sure enough, your roommate has gotten up and
stumbled into the shower.
Saute the beef and teriyaki sauce for about six minutes, until
the meat is cooked through.
Add the vegetables to the pan and cook until everything is
heated thoroughly. Serve over white rice.
Your roommate emerges, looking somewhat healthier already. Hand
him a plate of food and watch him revive as he gulps it down.
“I’m cured!” he sighs happily, plopping back
onto the couch and opening a celebratory bag of licorice.
At this point, the best thing to do is shove over some of the
garbage and join him. Candy might be what started this whole mess,
but at least it’s delicious.
Raab had a bottle of cream soda for breakfast. E-mail her at
lraab@media.ucla.edu.