Other than the part where I own less of my finger than I might have liked, dinner went fine.
And by the way, it hurts like hell to type, and I don't want you to feel bad for me, or think about what a hero I am, how I'm the wind beneath your wings, typing with this major injury. Don't go on and on about how grateful you are that I blogged anyway. No, sir. I hate that kind of attention. Really, I hate any kind of attention.
I am totally one of those "negative attention is worse than none at all" people, aren't I? Why do you even like me?
The point is, after my brief, not-at-all-ludicrous workout Saturday,
I got my menu prepared and headed to the store. Remember all the things I SAID I was gonna make last time I wrote? I didn't make any of them. Two of the items called for chicken broth, which has MSG, which gives me the migraines, and basically I'm a barrel of laughs.
So I made honey jalapeno salmon, broccoli tomato salad, new potatoes just made the regular way by boiling them and buttering the shit out of them, and finally? My pieces of resistance? (Am hilarious.)
In total, my groceries were $28, and the salmon was about half of that cost. I thought I had honey but it turns out something bad happened with the honey, which I will not tell you about because it's SO SO AWFUL, and I thought I had oregano, and please look at that link. HOW DO I NO LONGER HAVE OREGANO?
So these things had to be borrowed from Ned.
I debated whether I could wear that teal tank in the photo above as my dinner garb, but decided to wear something not absolutely disgusting. The point is, the avocado pops were made first because they had to freeze,
So there I was, cutting the grape tomatoes when MOTHER OF GOD did I cut the crap out my finger. It was like that Julia Child scene from Saturday Night Live. I pressed a cloth to it, praying to all that is heavenly that it would stop before Ned got there, because one thing Ned is good at is the blood, and I was really looking forward to bleeding all over the smelling salts I was wafting under Ned.
It did stop, sort of, thanks to my Dora the Explorer Band-Aids one of you sent me. Since I began this blog I have not had to buy Band-Aids once. I don't know why I seem like the type who likes colorful kid Band-Aids except for the part where I'm TOTALLY that type, and you guys have sent me every kind out there.
So with anemia, I finished everything. I was like a cheffy Evonne Goolagong.
I guess I had iron, I just didn't have any blood.
THE POINT IS I GOT IT ALL DONE.
You can see the drop cloth over my corner cabinet, as we are still scraping, sanding, priming and painting my damn ceilings, which I will complain about tomorrow. The point is? Ned gave the meal five goddammits.
"This is the best salmon I've ever eaten," said Ned. "GODAMMIT!" said Ned.
For the rest of the night, Ned kept talking about dinner. He talked about it here, he talked about it at his house where we watched the world's most disturbing movie (I don't know what it's called. But if you run across a movie where Scarlett Johanssen is an alien, DO NOT WATCH IT. DO NOT. Even though she is naked in it throughout, DO NOT), he talked about it today.
I have never known a human to get more enjoyment out of food, except for possibly my Uncle Leo, who feels sick after every meal, so indulgent is he. We all wait for it. "Oh," he'll say, grabbing his stomach. "I'm sick." A meal isn't done till Uncle Leo feels purge-y.
Oh. But one thing.
From my kitchen to yours,
P.S. My new Purple Clover is about how I couldn't stay the hell out of this one bar. A proud moment.