Monday, February 23, 2009


I cannot be trusted in the kitchen these days. All of this frugal living and non-fast-food-eating has got me salivating like a crazy person whenever the food commercials come on tv. I'm all "mmmm.... fisssshhh sammmmwich", or "delllicious giggle drops!". Then I say to myself that eating at a fast food place dollar menu is cheaper than making food myself.
Then I admit that I am lying to myself. Then I stick my head in the oven and weep.

Not really - I just get all jones-y for "yummy food" and come up empty every time now that my kitchen is brimming with healthy and nutritious food.

So then I decide to make oatmeal cookies, and for a delicious and nutritious twist I substitute some of the butter out with some vanilla yoghurt. So then I end up with franken-cookies which are neither entirely cookie nor entirely daubs of oatmeal. They are some kind of un-delicious cross between the two. The dough is perfectly unmanageable (have YOU ever tried to scoop numerous globs of oatmeal onto a cookie sheet?) and the result is a not-even-a-hint-of-naughty snack that's hell on wheels when it hits the southern end of the digestive tract. I'm just sayin'.

and yes. I do plan on consuming the rest of them. Just.... not all at once. Dear gawwd.

So then the next morning I decide to make pancakes. You know, delicious fluffy pancakes with their sweet and buttery goodness? and I end up with a recipe that calls for stuff we don't have so I use stuff we do have and THOSE substitutions resulted in an even healthier little nightmare that was ... myeh... edible but not "get me my pajamas and a spoon, I'm devouring the whole batch right now" delicious.

So then my salvation came when I made dinner, which was a tasty rice and beans and chicken and tomatoes and onion and pepper concoction - but I have to say the creative wizards within me had already been clubbed to death and their corpses locked in lead boxes and dumped in the ocean someplace - so that's why I didn't do any of my signature substitutions and that's why it turned out okay.

Now that I've recovered from a weekend of weary experimental cooking/baking, my inner twelve year old is purple faced and screaming for a cheeseburger, wafflefries, potato chip covered fish fillets from the freezer, and those little pizza rolls that come in a bag and that you can only eat for about three weeks in your freshman year at college without gaining a billion pounds.

Problem is, my waistline looks great. I think I'm losing weight.

But I waaant a cheeeeseburger!

Maybe I can sneak some mayo into tonights dinner?

NO! Say NO to creative wizardry! GRAGH!

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