OK, I suppose it was inevitable that my body would eventually rebel from its misuse over the past week. After all, eating chicken-vegetable soup, cold chicken, or green bean casserole for breakfast is not the stuff of which my breakfasts normally consist. After several days in a row of this foolishness, I should expect a rebellion, right?
I must say, though, that it was fun eating indiscriminately for a few days. The Christmas train filled with Godiva chocolates was a big draw for everyone, including me. The pumpkin/chocolate chip bread from Great Harvest was super tasty and it was an act of kindness, to my body, that I sent the remainder of it home with The Three Musketeers and their parents. There is still the banana bread from Chez Moi that is hiding somewhere in the refrigerator. Those little Smokies that Gramps always makes at his house, by boiling them, taste TOTALLY different when warmed in a frying pan. There is enough sodium in one of those little morsels to create the need for blood-pressure medication. Somehow Gramp's boiling method releases much of the sodium into the water, whereas heating them in a frying pan simply enhances the sodium to an uber-level.
Then there are the two pies still taking refrigerator space, calling out, through the door, "Eat me, eat me!" Unlike the evil plant in the musical "Little Shop of Horrors" that calls out, "Feed me!", these pies are much more insidious with their friendly and caring tone of voice. You actually want to sample the raspberry or pumpkin pie. To add insult to injury, the real ice cream residing next door to the pies has joined in the chorus of "Eat me!". I'm doomed.
To top this all off, Capt. SO decided that yesterday would be a good day to test a recipe for Bread Puddling. We were given the chance to eat this recipe while at Gramp's house for Christmas when a friend brought over a large pan of bread pudding made with cinnamon-raisin bread that was soooo tasty. Capt. SO decided he simply must get the recipe, which he did, and then, after all of this recent indiscriminate eating, HE decides that he needs to try making the pudding, which he did yesterday. The recipe didn't quite turn out like he wanted, probably because he made a half-batch in ramekins, rather than a full batch in an nine-by-thirteen inch glass pan. Hence, he has declared that, today, he will make a full batch in the type of pan called for in the recipe, continuing his quest to replicate the friend's pudding.
While I admire his culinary tenacity for the truth.......a full batch.....on top of everything else calling to me from behind closed doors and lids? Really?
Just roll me down the stairs to the treadmill. I'm too full to walk. I feel like one of those Russian nesting dolls.
Ancora imparo
