There have been a few things going on lately that are frustratingly beyond my control, so I have retreated to my usual chaos-inspired attempt to regain control in my life: a health kick. You might be thinking, what are you, f*cking crazy? You are a VEGETARIAN! Your colon probably greets every day with song and dance!
Oh, how wrong you would be. So after spending a delightful day with my sister and 14 month-old nephew (dear GOD is he cute....of course, I forgot my camera), we stopped at the Outpost Co-Op and I stizzocked-the hell up. When the checker rang up the total I had to do a double-take, but you don't expect my health kick to include red wine made WITH sulfites and pesticide-laden grapes, do you?
Anyway, some of the healthy items in my cart included: kefir, omega-3 capsules, Tofurkey, brown basmati rice, dried cranberries, "perfect protein salad" and "Thai peanut pasta," baby spinach, two kinds of dark chocolate (one with lavender and blueberries), two containers of organic soup (cuban black bean bisque and sweet potato), almond milk, a homemade granola bar, and some other healthy shit I can't remember right now.
All of these grand efforts probably mean I'll still contract some horrid debilitating disease (related to stress, no doubt) and die before the rest of you, but at least I'll have fun torturing my husband while I'm still here.
Why, here's an example: on Thursday I made some garlic-bean and spinach chowder for dinner. We made the mistake of watching the Food Network while we ate (which is akin to watching you-know-what while doing you-know-what), and unfortunately, Paula's "Deep Fried Thanksgiving" was on, featuring a parade of deep fried meats on sticks, deep fried veggies, and one very rotund Walter Payton (as helper, I assume). At one point, his low-fat/high-fiber soup balanced pitifully on his lap, J turned to me with giant Precious Moments eyes and whimpered, "Can we change the channel please?"
Now, I'm not vegan (because Wisconsin might revoke my state citizenship if I gave up dairy), but I just discovered a new blog that has me salivating: Post Punk Kitchen Blog. The shot of those savory tomato rosemary scones has me reconsidering my ban on scones-as-gifts for the coming holiday season.
Family and friends, consider yourselves warned.
EDIT: thanks to Manic Mom and J, who just informed me that Walter Payton is DEAD. It was actually Refrigerator Perry. Who will probably die soon too, after consuming all those deep-fried meats on sticks.
Oh, the humanity.