That “here’s what a week’s worth of food looks like around the world” article is going around again. If you want to feel streamlined and virtuous, despite being a fat cat westerner who feeds off the misery of Africans, just take a look at our Aldi haul from last week:
Then I go to Hannaford and pick up whatever I couldn’t find — usually bananas, Coke, seltzer, tonic water and wine, some meat, herbs, and half a dozen other miscellaneous items. Maybe I should ask for carbon credits for Christmas this year.
Hamburgers, chips, salad
That’s what it says on my magic blackboard, so it must be true. I have no memory of this.
Pretty good recipes I’ve made many times before. While I was shopping for the cream, I saw something called “fat free half-and-half.”
I thought the kids would like pumpkin bread muffins in their lunches, so I tripled the recipe. The whole time I was adding ingredients, this little alarm bell was going off in my head: “Ding ding ding . . . something about this feels familiar . . . ding ding ding . . . nine cups of sugar . . . ding ding . . . kind of a lot of batter . . .ding . . . ” By the time I started really listening, it was too late, and I had about six gallons of pumpkin bread batter. Not a problem, exactly, but definitely a lot of pumpkin bread. This is part of it:
There would have been more, but I ate a ton of raw batter because I am disgusting.
Chicken burgers, cheezy weezies, salad
Boy, Monday feels like a long time ago.
Oven roasted pork ribs, mashed potatoes, steamed asparagus
This may be the first time we’ve ever had leftover mashed potatoes. I think I made eight pounds. I woke up at 5 a.m. and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I seized the moment and became a potato martyr. Just kept peeling and peeling. The day went downhill from there, but at least we had a lot of potatoes.
Omelettes, hash browns, grits
Usually, I made omelettes to order, but I felt very deeply on Wednesday that I did not feel like doing this. So I figured I’d made giant omelettes and cut them up into servings. I started with just plain egg, assuming that that was what most people would want. Seven eggs went into the pan and started to fry up nicely. Then I asked the kids what kind of omelette everyone else wanted.
Guess how many people wanted just plain egg?
Luckily, that one was my 13-year-old son.
Oh yes, he ate the whole thing, plus hash browns and grits. Then he just sat there, digesting, and the villagers crowded around and weren’t sure what to do, besides keep their distance.
Although my husband’s family is Irish through and through, we go with the apparently inauthentic traditional American St. Patrick’s day meal: corned beef, potatoes, cabbage, and carrots, boiled with peppercorns and bay leaves, and served with mucho mustard. I also made a couple of loaves of soda bread from a mix, because nobody likes soda bread, so why should I bother to make it good? I should get an honorary Irish birth certificate just for that.
I think I have a picture somewhere, but it looks exactly like everyone else’s boiled dinner.
Pizza with homemade dough
We have the day off, not even sure why, so I’m making a stab at homemade dough. I quit doing this when we graduated to three pizzas, because my recipe only made enough dough for two. We now need four extra large pizzas, so we shall see. I’m going to use this Martha Stewart recipe.
So, how are you doing your part to deflower the natural world with your unnecessary packaging and your unhinged jaw?