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scheduling food

No, really, this is just me scheduling food.

So Here‘s the almost current food list.

Over the weekend, I acquired roast pork, ten oranges, and four grapefruit leftovers from my parents. At the produce truck, I picked up 5 red bell peppers, a bunch of scallions, carrots, a bunch or parsley, 1/2 pint of blueberries, and 2 1/2 pints of blackberries (I went back for more twice!).

Monday, December 11th
film screening – so chili because that will reheat quickly. Pity I didn’t think to pre-bake a potato
Ooo… or how about a bowl of oatmeal with blueberries instead?

Tuesday, December 12th
Thai chicken with leeks, red bell peppers, carrots, and rice noodles. Coconut milk is a maybe.
*take ground beef out to thaw*

Wednesday, December 13th
Indian buffet at New Delhi before a movie
dessert of blackberries and cream

Thursday, December 14th
*bone and cut up pork roast – make stock with pork bones – freeze meat*
mexican ground beef casserole/giant layered dip of goodness
*taco seasoned ground beef
*avocado
*diced tomato
*scallions
*lettuce
*sour cream
*tortillas? tortilla chips?

Friday, December 15th
Library holiday party with tasty food
late supper of either chili or mexican thing leftovers
*bake something? something that’s not sticky or too crumbish*
*finish cooking and strain stock*
*set beans to soaking*
*buy chicken thighs and london broil on last day of sale, if they have any left*
If there are any blackberries left, eat them.

Saturday, December 16th
birthday freaks & geeks
*start cooking pork and beans in pork stock*
salad o’ leftovers?

food lists

food I have
Produce
6 baking potatoes
3 tomatoes
an avocado (not yet ripe)
3 leeks
red lettuce
jalepenos
limes

Meat
lots of roasted beef leftovers cut into cubes
boiled chicken breast
chicken breast thawing with a lime and green curry paste marinade

bread
got nothing

dairy
half & half
sour cream
greek yogurt
gorgonzola cheese

Now what?
Oddly, it only just now occurred to me that instead of making vast quantities of hash, I could make chili! This is totally chili weather. Oh, man, that’ll be awesome.

I had vague ambitions last night to turn the boiled chicken into coronation chicken and have it with a salad. I am a bit unsure of that, but – hey – I’ve never made coronation chicken before. Ummm… coronation chicken is a cross between a chicken salad with mayonnaise and a chicken curry.

And then I think the leeks will go with the thai chicken. And that’ll be over either rice or rice noodles.

So. By not making hash, I now have a bunch of abandoned potatoes. Hmmm… Well, I have ground beef in the freezer. And I have ground beef with taco seasoning. Maybe I’ll put potatoes, taco beef, tomatoes, and the avocado together around the beginning of next week when the avocado is ready.

whimsy

When I was in college, I would occasionally buy flowers for myself.

When I finally got an apartment of my own, I went on a quest for the perfect vase that would fit one of those cheap bouquets from the supermarkets and some greenery comfortable while still being stable enough that it wouldn’t be likely to tip if a cat brushed up against it.

At the student pottery sale a year ago, I found the perfect vase. It is beautiful and subtle, heavy and decorative.

And then I started watching my money.

I want flowers

As we go marching, marching, in the beauty of the day,
A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray,
Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses,
For the people hear us singing: Bread and Roses! Bread and Roses!

As we go marching, marching, we battle too for men,
For they are women’s children, and we mother them again.
Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses.

As we go marching, marching, unnumbered women dead
Go crying through our singing their ancient call for bread.
Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew.
Yes, it is bread we fight for, but we fight for roses too.

As we go marching, marching, we bring the greater days,
The rising of the women means the rising of the race.
No more the drudge and idler, ten that toil where one reposes,
But a sharing of life’s glories: Bread and roses, bread and roses.

Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies; bread and roses, bread and roses.

Bryn Mawr songbook

And then I remember that there are many more practical things that I want more.

It only leads to trouble

Hee! So after those elaborate plans for dinner yesterday, I got home and decided I didn’t want to do dishes to start in on making food.

So I bought a loaf of white bread and had a hamburger.

Happily, however, after a scant cup of stew, a hamburger, and a lettuce sandwich (to use up the leaves that had been pulled off and cleaned but not used to quesadillas the night before), I was quite full and satisfied.

And I did the dishes this morning, so we are on course for bizarre chinese-ish food tonight.

Also, I might be a homewrecker. By accident. And without sex.

See – the new neighbors next door are a woman about my age and her slightly older boyfriend and his daughter.

I am occasionally nice to his daughter when I am sitting out on my porch and she is outdoors playing. Nice for such values that include giving her a young adult novel I had finished (and was reading the sequel to at the time) and giving her a harness and leash for her new kitten who they were letting wander around outside with just a collar and a general optimistic attitude that it wouldn’t stray from the back yard.

And then last week I was making red beans and rice and ended up using too much pork, so I used the entire one pound bag of beans… so I popped my head out and asked the girlfriend whether she’d like some for dinner the next day when it was finished. She said yes, and I filled up a bowl for her… but apparently she has never had red beans and rice and the boyfriend is very very fond of the dish.

Item three. So I was just popping out to get bread, and I paused a moment on the porch to admire the backyard, as I do, and then I noticed the boyfriend was out on his porch – so I covered for my standing a bit there like a dork by saying I was trying to identify the smell. And then I covered for saying he smelled by pointing out that he was smoking. And then mentioned that it was actually a rather nice smelling cigarette (one of those dark ones). And it was three steps down the alley later, when he was saying, “Yeah, it does smell nice,” that I realised I had just complimented the smell of the cigarettes for which he had been banned to the outdoor porch while it was raining.

*facepalm*

If they break up, I will be full of guilt.