I ordered yarn. A mess of it. I’m too ashamed to talk about it. More when I’m strong again.
So this is what I remember of what Kira made for me and her wife Rachel the other night. Bhindi masala, which is lovely stir-fried crunchy okra with onions and maybe garlic, mustard seeds, and other spices which I shall not try to remember, for I shall fail. She also (I do have a point here) made us potatoes with peas and lots of Indian spices, and this incredible rice with almonds, cranberries and raisins. Everything worked together. Every flavor supported the next.
I tried to duplicate that two nights ago. Yes, I did. And all shall be impressed when I say that I made a three course meal, just for me. I made: Tater tots, followed by some lovely chicken nuggets. I had ketchup, too. And salt, I believe. And a V8 for health. And then, to top it off? I made peach jello. It is, you know, the very pinnacle of class (say: closs) to realize that you own a tin of fruit that has made perhaps three moves with you, and that it will go perfectly in that peach jello.
Someone told me that it was the kind of meal with which I should have bought my pint of milk and gone to my hiding place on the playground where the bullies wouldn’t find me. I, however, prefer to think of it as truck-stop food, diesels rumbling outside, the waitress calling me "kiddo" and offering me apple pie while she scratches her left ear with her pen.
Before you worry, I do have a salad at least once a week to stave off the scurvy. And I take vitamins. Yep. Health. It’s hard work.
Happy weekend, all. Knit! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do (which means you can holler at the sliver of the moon, but for god’s sake don’t think about the [silk] yarn you just ordered).
Have mercy. Get Kira to post a few recipes, eh?
Yeah. post some recipes please!
And- silk? Hmmm.
What truck stops do you frequent? My ‘waitress dream’ is always a flashback to the summers of ’71-’72 and a job at the Teen Queen Drive-in where I was short order cook, waitress, and diesel jockey all at the same time. Highlights: the singles club used to come in every Saturday night after the wrestling match; we had Buck Owens and the Buckaroos’ rendition of ‘Ain’t it Amazing Gracie’ on the jukebox and every creep who came in had a quarter to play it for me; one of my biggest ‘fans’ used to bring his horse through the drive-in window every Sunday afternoon to say hello to me. Just so you can picture it better, the horse was in a personalized trailer. Scratching behind an ear indeed . . . Grac(i)e
I just read this to Michelle and we laughed at how crazy you are.
We’ve been talking all week about vegetables (and how I don’t eat nearly enough) since the new recommendations were just released. 9! servings of fruits and veggies a day. Michelle said that the blueberries in the muffin I ate for breakfast yesterday were not nearly enough.
Celebrate the yarn buying! Splurging seems to be going around.
If you’d like, I can send you a box of (gently used) little toys promoting various “newly released blockbuster” movies that you can open only after you have finished your meal. And I probably have vitamins shaped to match at least some of the above-mentioned toys! Oh, and was your ketchup red, green, or purple?
This post had two words in it that I never thought could have ANY relation to each other whatsoever – “okra” and “crunchy.” Kira must be some kind of kitchen witch, that’s all I can say.
Sorry, darlin’, but truckstops serve much better meals than that. Still, I am very impressed at the three course thing. Out here, I have discovered a new culinary wonder, inspired by a romance novel about the amish: peanut butter and marshmallow creme sandwiches. Mmm. If I have a banana for desert, does that help?
Man I miss those girls cooking.
You eat better than I do, sweetie. Breakfast is coffee, lunch is usually meat and two veg (we have a cafeteria at work), and dinner is the quickest thing I can grab. Last night I had a Healthy Choice entree and a bite of my daughters’ birthday cake. The night before I had Mike and Ike’s and some water.
BTW, the picture you took of yourself after running in the rain was kinda sexy. I’m not surprised that it didn’t freak Lala out.
V8?
Baby, that was a *four* course meal!