Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Labor Day Libations

So yesterday started out good but then... not so much.

I woke up and got busy around the house while the husband went off to work. (Yes, my labor day was actually fairly laborous. Annoying, right?)

Something he does that drives me crazy?

He'll know he's about to go to work for 8 hours and not take a lunch.

Also we share a car and usually I have it while he's at work and therefore he has no alternative means of lunch purchasing and eating.

I mean... REALLY? How do you forget that at some point in the next 8 hours you might want to EAT?!

I can forget lots of things people. I really can. But I do not forget that I need to eat. Meal time? Not a forgettable thing. If I am not going to have a means of transportation or a restaurant within walking distance you better believe I realize that and prepare.

So it drives me insane because 1) It's just wrong and 2) Even though I say I will not I usually have pity on him and go out of my way to take him something to eat.

So yesterday he went to work and took the car.

I text him, "Hmmm I'm guessing my husband didn't take a lunch again today."

His answer? "I was planning on coming home for lunch. :)"

Pretty sure you just could have said yes Mr. Tricky Trickster.

Don't worry- At the end of this story? I get him fat. That's my revenge.

My poison of choice this time were these fig crumble bars. He loves Fig Newtons for some unknowable reason and they just seemed right up his alley.

Plus there is the fact that I am an idiot.

(Why am I an idiot? A few weeks ago I bought fresh figs from Trader Joe's because I had never had them before. It was basically hate at first bite. But I kept trying and trying to love them. I WANTED to have deep figgy love. But I just don't. They rotted at the bottom of my fridge. That's not the part about how I'm an idiot though. About a week ago I see "Fig Butter" at Trader Joe's. It is not fig flavored butter, it is just uber-figgy preserves. You would think I was IN LOVE with figs the way I cradled that jar in my arms. "I need this." I told my husband. I somehow forgot about the tiny little fact that I DO NOT LIKE FIGS. Turns out fig butter? Tastes like figs. If you do not like figs? You will not like fig butter. Only an idiot would not realize this. Therefore, I'm an idiot.)

So I take one look at the fig crumble recipe and I am like "Oh crap."

Cuz guess what? It calls for oatmeal.

What is that? You do not understand how oatmeal could be a bad thing?

Me either. But to my husband, it is very bad. He claims oatmeal in it's porridge-y form makes him feel ill. He cannot resist any of my cookies except the oatmeal variety. I have made delicious buttery oatmeal cake with warm, fresh cherries nestled inside and he acts like I have sinned against God. The only oatmeal thing he has ever liked was granola. And then, of course, I had to be all stupid like "HAHA YOU KNOW GRANOLA IS BAKED CRUNCHY OATMEAL RIGHT?!" I don't think I've seen him touch granola since.

So of course I did what any good wife would do in this situation.

I hid the evidence and I lied about it.

I whipped out my ninja and blended up the oatmeal until it was unrecognizable oatmeal dust. Then I proceeded to bake the crumble bars as normal.

Guess what? He loves them.

And I will never say a word. And neither will you... or else.

Because I still have half a jar of fig butter to use up and man that stuff is disgusting. No way I'm gonna eat it.

I cannot however promise that I will never buy Fig Butter again. Because I am very likely to try to convince myself that me and figs were just having a little misunderstanding and that everything is peachy now.

I do this with a lot of things. Like bell peppers. I really WANT to like bell peppers. I always give them a little nibble in hopes that they have changed their gross-tasting ways. And then inevitably I feel like vomiting.

Stupid fig butter. Stupid bell peppers.

It is all their fault and not mine.


So I was gonna make him spaghetti carbonara for lunch but he ended up having to take lunch way earlier than I anticipated and I didn't have time. Instead we had Taco Bell.

Pintos and cheese and a soft taco for me. 390 calories. Had a 100 calorie smoothie for breakfast. And probably 60 calories worth of cream/milk in various coffees.

I dropped him off back at work and took the car to Walmart. Three things my Walmart does not have: Shallots, a reasonable price on basil, and ramekins. In case you wondered. I did however find a 9 x 9 baking pan and black printer ink. So the trip was not a total waste.

A stop at the grocery store to get the things I couldn't find at Walmart. Well, besides the ramekins. Which is probably for the better anyways because I wanted them for a nefarious purpose. Something involving hot water baths and a blow torch.


I obviously mean creme brulee.

So I spent a few hours in my kitchen after that. I made pesto. I made croutons. I made Caesar dressing. I did dishes. I got everything out to make pasta puttanesca sauce. Then my mom called.

"OH HAI! I AM ALL WANTING TO THROW A WRENCH INTO YOUR PLANS! I am calling to invite you to XYZ BBQ joint that your husband loves and that you know he's going to want to go to. So pretty much all that work you just did? Total waste of time."

I took a look at my counter full of ingredients ready to become dinner and just sighed.


I'm rolling with the punches peeps.

So we went to XYZ BBQ joint. I did what all scorned dinner-makers do. I ate pork ribs and french fries and ranch dressing and garlic bread. Duh. I guesstimate 800 calories.

And then to celebrate my horrible dinner choices and my recent weight loss milestone I also got an Oreo McFlurry.

It was snack size though. So now my food choices make perfect sense.

I knew you'd understand. 340 calories.

But today is a new day. And I will eat a salad and drink my fruit in smoothie form and work out.

And... and... I will finally have pasta puttanesca for dinner, gosh dang it!!

(Approximately 1700 calories for the day, 3 out of 10)

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