Food, glorious food...
I love food. Food is awesome. Yes, I have a tendency to forget to eat it sometimes.... but, as my $75 grocery bill* from yesterday will attest, this merely signifies the shortness of my attention span, rather than my feelings regarding food.
I stopped by Safeway to just pick up a few things. I'd eaten the last two eggs that morning, so I grabbed a Family Size 18 Eggs package. Is it my fault that they were buy-one-get-one-free? Anyways, a house of six(ish) hungry ruggers and their friends, who have given rave (if drunken) reviews of my fantastic (if drunken) egg making skills will surely go through them quickly enough.
I have less justification for the fruit. Yes, that container of strawberries was both MASSIVE and $5. Yes, that bag of cherries was similarly large and cheap. Nevermind that the last massive container of strawberries nearly went bad before we finished them, and (I recall only after I've gotten home and put the cherries in the fridge) I don't know if anyone else in the house even likes cherries.
The tomato, on the other hand, wasn't cheap at all - especially when I added two zuchinni and a big ball of fresh mozarella. But cut up and drizzled with my homemade raspberry vingarette, my foodgasm was sufficiently fantastic to distract me from the fact that I was eating about $10 worth of groceries as a large snack.
And yeah, maybe the real parmasean cheese was a bit unnecessary, as was the curry mix, the pierogies, and the chik'n nuggets. But isn't it worth it for the joy I will get in eating them? And anyways, I also bought three ears of corn at 17 cents apiece, and forwent my usual tasty-but-expensive brand of flavored hummus for a cheap vat of unadorned plain.
That wasn't the extent of my food-love yesterday, however. Oh no. Once I got those groceries home and put away, I ended up spending most of the evening in the kitchen. First I did dishes (and dishes and dishes and dishes - five or six hungry people living in a house with a broken dishwasher doesn't do much for the state of the sink), and then I made the above-mentioned tomato/zuchinni/mozarella/raspberry vinegarette salad, which I ate gluttonously while watching Season 4 of The L Word.
Then I returned to the kitchen for a culinary experiment: biscuits. While driving home considering the bags of groceries in my trunk, I was suddenly seized by a vision of light, fluffy, buttery biscuits onto which I could spread my recently-acquired raspberry jam.
So I got out my Betty Crocker cookbook, trolled through the house's baking cabinet to check to see if we had all the ingredients (pausing for a phone call to my parents to determine that cream of tartar isn't necessarily essential to tasty biscuitry), and then began. I mixed, kneaded, rolled, and baked. I got flour and sticky dough everywhere. I worried that my biscuits would resemble small hockey pucks, especially after I had to back them 6 minutes longer than recommended to get any sort of golden color.
For my efforts, I was rewarded with a steady stream of housemate commentary: "What are you doing?" "You're making biscuits from scratch?" "Can I have one?!"
Apparently they were not hocky puckish in the least, and I can add "Biscuit Maker" to my list of accomplishments.
To wind down the evenig, I made myself a tasty batch of Madrid pasta sauce and noodles, cooking enough for dinner and lunch today, with noodles left over to be combined with that tasty-but-expensive real parmesan cheese. I confess, I didn't do my dishes (by the time I got everything into tupperware, it was 11pm and the sink was again filled to the dishes and I decided dammit, someone else can take care of it for once**), but instead rolled myself up to bed, fat and content.
And this, oh temp agency, I offer as my excuse as to why I was too full to properly set my alarm, and showed up an hour late to the job today.
*Bringing the total amount spend on groceries since moving into the Brookland house two weeks ago to about $200... dayum, girl.
**I am not actually at all bitter with the roommates about dish-doing - for the most part, it has been happily and equitably shared.
I stopped by Safeway to just pick up a few things. I'd eaten the last two eggs that morning, so I grabbed a Family Size 18 Eggs package. Is it my fault that they were buy-one-get-one-free? Anyways, a house of six(ish) hungry ruggers and their friends, who have given rave (if drunken) reviews of my fantastic (if drunken) egg making skills will surely go through them quickly enough.
I have less justification for the fruit. Yes, that container of strawberries was both MASSIVE and $5. Yes, that bag of cherries was similarly large and cheap. Nevermind that the last massive container of strawberries nearly went bad before we finished them, and (I recall only after I've gotten home and put the cherries in the fridge) I don't know if anyone else in the house even likes cherries.
The tomato, on the other hand, wasn't cheap at all - especially when I added two zuchinni and a big ball of fresh mozarella. But cut up and drizzled with my homemade raspberry vingarette, my foodgasm was sufficiently fantastic to distract me from the fact that I was eating about $10 worth of groceries as a large snack.
And yeah, maybe the real parmasean cheese was a bit unnecessary, as was the curry mix, the pierogies, and the chik'n nuggets. But isn't it worth it for the joy I will get in eating them? And anyways, I also bought three ears of corn at 17 cents apiece, and forwent my usual tasty-but-expensive brand of flavored hummus for a cheap vat of unadorned plain.
That wasn't the extent of my food-love yesterday, however. Oh no. Once I got those groceries home and put away, I ended up spending most of the evening in the kitchen. First I did dishes (and dishes and dishes and dishes - five or six hungry people living in a house with a broken dishwasher doesn't do much for the state of the sink), and then I made the above-mentioned tomato/zuchinni/mozarella/raspberry vinegarette salad, which I ate gluttonously while watching Season 4 of The L Word.
Then I returned to the kitchen for a culinary experiment: biscuits. While driving home considering the bags of groceries in my trunk, I was suddenly seized by a vision of light, fluffy, buttery biscuits onto which I could spread my recently-acquired raspberry jam.
So I got out my Betty Crocker cookbook, trolled through the house's baking cabinet to check to see if we had all the ingredients (pausing for a phone call to my parents to determine that cream of tartar isn't necessarily essential to tasty biscuitry), and then began. I mixed, kneaded, rolled, and baked. I got flour and sticky dough everywhere. I worried that my biscuits would resemble small hockey pucks, especially after I had to back them 6 minutes longer than recommended to get any sort of golden color.
For my efforts, I was rewarded with a steady stream of housemate commentary: "What are you doing?" "You're making biscuits from scratch?" "Can I have one?!"
Apparently they were not hocky puckish in the least, and I can add "Biscuit Maker" to my list of accomplishments.
To wind down the evenig, I made myself a tasty batch of Madrid pasta sauce and noodles, cooking enough for dinner and lunch today, with noodles left over to be combined with that tasty-but-expensive real parmesan cheese. I confess, I didn't do my dishes (by the time I got everything into tupperware, it was 11pm and the sink was again filled to the dishes and I decided dammit, someone else can take care of it for once**), but instead rolled myself up to bed, fat and content.
And this, oh temp agency, I offer as my excuse as to why I was too full to properly set my alarm, and showed up an hour late to the job today.
*Bringing the total amount spend on groceries since moving into the Brookland house two weeks ago to about $200... dayum, girl.
**I am not actually at all bitter with the roommates about dish-doing - for the most part, it has been happily and equitably shared.