Today was harder. I failed to plan which left me ravenous by the end of the day. My bad. It was so ridiculous that I didn’t even go to the door when the Schwan’s man came. I hid. Because I knew if I opened that door and he was the only thing between me and a truck full of ice cream, frozen pies, ready-to-bake cookies and French bread loaves, he’d be rolling down the front hill of my house while I commandeered his vehicle. I would have made the news and it wouldn’t have been pretty. I need to pull myself together and plan more methodically or I will be found in Arizona having driven cross country with no recollection of how I arrived there–covered in Oreo dust with a floorboard full of empty Coke cans.
It. Could. Happen.
I thought a deconstructed BLT would hit the spot. I already had the mayo made from the weekend and we’d purchased local tomatoes at the market. Replace toasted white bread [shiver] with crispy Romaine and it’s heavenly.
Through this odyssey so far, I’ve determined two things–my nearly 20-year-old dinnerware needs replaced [or I need a fancy plate for blog food shots] and I need a good knife set. So, if anyone loves me [Santa?], I will have those under the tree this year.
In the meantime, you can look at my scritch scratch, Pfaltzgraff long ago retired pattern.
After all, when there is perfect BACON in the middle of the photo, are you really paying attention to the plate? If you are, I feel sorry for you.
Because my oldest and I split the remainder of a nearly empty pack of bacon, we were still hungry after we ate our two deconstructed BLT each. Instead of panicking and opening a bag of brown sugar to eat with a spoon, I peeled a sweet potato and diced it.
We had baked our bacon on a foil lined baking sheet. Funny thing about bacon, its grease doesn’t respect the boundaries of aluminum foil. When it’s a matter of cleaning the baking sheet, that’s a bummer. When you realize you could toss your diced potatoes in that lovely oil rather than using olive oil, you feel a little naughty, but you reason it’s better than covering your next helping of bacon in chocolate and you move onto tossing and salting the potatoes.
For Day 6, we are planning a trip to the Farmer’s Market after I’m done at work. I will keep my hands of the fresh picked corn. I promise.