So yesterday was day two on my 29 day journey sans refrigeration. What did I notice? That I stand in front of an open fridge and stare a lot. Am I the only one?
On my trip back East last week, where I basked in rampant refrigeration, blissfully unaware of the horror that awaited me at home; I bought half a dozen fresh bagels, they were still warm when I got them. I cut them, wrapped them and froze them (thanks to a tip from a dear friend plus the fact that my parents have a beautiful, working freezer). I lovingly shoved them into my suitcase at 4:30 am, which P.S. – I had to sit on to get it to close. By the time I arrived in Phoenix, they were an unfrozen wonderfulness of gluten and yeast. I did what any Jersey girl would do, and gave two of them to my other Jersey friends that are stuck with me here, living in crap-bread purgatory; share the wealth when you’ve got it, right? I was left with four delicious, soft on the inside, slightly crusted on the outside REAL bagels. Why am I telling you this? Because that’s what I’ve been eating for breakfast – hence the need to not worry about making my shake since my refrigerator went all kamikaze air pilot on me, in the Pearl Harbor that is life.
I ate one with peanut butter on day two as breakfast. I’ve heard you do not need to refrigerate regular butter, but since I didn’t own any butter, rather an alternate substance made of something that “I can’t believe”, I had thrown it out in yesterday’s refrigerator massacre. Peanut butter will do. Always.
Back to day two, by the time I got home from work and high-fived the dog (she’s amazing, and completely unaffected by our refrigeration woes, thank you dry dog food), I had decided to write this blog. I went to college to be a writer actually, English Lit degree to be exact. I haven’t really written, let alone done anything creative in the past 15 years since I’ve graduated. The things that used to define who I was growing up: writer, singer, actress, were now all old stories. Maybe this was meant to happen? Can God’s plans include food storage manipulation? Whatever it is, it feels great to be writing again, even if it’s somewhat innocuously about a refrigerator.
I had purchased cheddar potato soup the day before on my first grocery store excursion post-fridge, and had planned to make it on night two. It’s the kind where you add water to it and stick it in the microwave (don’t judge, okay, every day is not going to be gourmet, people). I played fetch with my dog, her toy of choice for the evening, a mini tire. When she brings it back to me, she puts the tire around the whole of her mouth/nose and she looks just like Bane. I picture her with the weird Bane voice (dude gives me nightmares, legit) saying “Play with me, Batman”. Every time I try to get a picture, she drops it.
My stomach growled and I remembered it was time to eat. I went into the kitchen, and based on what must be muscle memory, opened the fridge and stared, just stared, into a dead fridge that held nothing but two bottles of sealed wine procured from my recent Walla Walla, WA trip (that’s sooo fun to say), a few water bottles and an errant otter pop in the freezer that I’d missed in my mass cleansing.
It’s crazy how the mind works. I was hungry, and my immediate reaction was to open the fridge and stare, and figure out what to make. Does anybody else do this? You may be hungry, you may not be, but the solution is always to stand in front of an open fridge for a few minutes, like it’s an oracle and the meal ideas will come to you in a vision. Normally, I see something and think “yum that looks good” and pick it up and eat it while I’m deciding what else to make. Then something else catches my eye and I put the other thing back and eat the new shiny object, all while still figuring out what I’m going to make. I wondered how many times in my life I’d done that…just unconsciously shoved food in my mouth because it was there. Probably more than I’d like to admit.
As you know, there was jack S. in the fridge, so I closed it and got out my soup, watching Pitch Perfect. Acca awesome! I added a little garlic powder and some parsley and viola (pronounced viola, like the instrument) DINNER WAS SERVED! (Photo below)
I’m a snacker, and it gets worse when I’m bored. Some people need a boyfriend to do things with, to have fun and enjoy life with. I think I mostly need one to keep me distracted from eating aimlessly while watching whatever’s on Bravo. But I digress; this blog is not about my dating life (though I’m sure you secretly wish it was). I try to tell myself I’m being healthy by having apple sauce or sugar free Jello when I’m sitting there, but really…do I want it…or am I just eating it because it’s there? Halfway through Pitch Perfect…you know, the part where Anna Kendrick and the almost cute but not cute enough lead guy (which is why I don’t remember his name – because he’s not cute enough) are watching Breakfast Club and her Asian roommate comes home and says “Oh, the white girl’s back.”? Somewhere around then, I got up, opened the refrigerator and stared. Again. Jesus, why! Hello, McFly!!! It’s empty. Just like it was empty a few hours ago.
I never realized how much I do this. I returned to the couch and in what was probably a rarity, didn’t feel the need to snack on anything at all the rest of the night.
Did not have any Bane nightmares last night, phew. Bagel. Amazing. Local desert wild flower raw, unfiltered honey; that’s what I had on it (I knew you were dying to know).
Yoga; the thing that probably saved me from having an all-out meltdown five and half years ago. It’s my jam! (Who’s counting Pitch Perfect movie quotes here?) It’s my thing. It’s what keeps me calm. It’s changed my outlook on life, my body, my mind. I highly recommend it. I would say it’s much cheaper than therapy, but it probably isn’t. I’d brought my clothes to work to change into, but ALSO (and more importantly) because I could get water and ice at the office. Try doing 100 degree yoga for 80 minutes with only warm water to drink, no bueno. I’m sure that it is healthier to drink warm water when your body is warm…but, did I mention the 100 degree part?
In a wet, post hot yoga bliss, I went to Albertson’s and while walking around decided that I would make brown rice risotto with mushrooms, spinach and chicken. I bought the smallest single chicken breast that they had at the butcher’s, and it was still close to 1 pound. But I don’t need 1 pound! Too bad, that was my only choice. So I’ve made brown rice before, I’m not a brown rice novice, but for some reason tonight, I forgot that it takes double the time to cook as white rice. So I made my risotto like I normally would and when I took it off the stove, the rice was still hard. Icky Poo. I thought about covering it and letting it sit for another 25 minutes, but ain’t nobody got time for that! So I ate it, eating around the rice. The chicken, spinach and mushrooms tasted good. Overall, I give dinner tonight a disappointing two thumbs down. I ended up throwing out half of the chicken, uncooked, it was just too much food for one meal.
Overall: I spent $10 at the grocery store today on chicken, organic mushrooms, organic spinach and fake Parmesan cheese in the shaker (because, let’s face it we all know that’s not really cheese, so it doesn’t necessarily need to be refrigerated). On the plus side, I still have half of the mushrooms and spinach and will redeem myself another day. The sun will come out, tomorrow. Annie said so.