January 17, 2012 § 17 Comments
The first thing that Joel and I did together that could be classified (however questionably) as a date involved sitting at his kitchen table for 6 or 7 hours stuffing envelopes. Not exactly romantic in the, ahem, classical sense. In fact, I’m still trying to sort through exactly how he convinced me that that would be a worthwhile use of my day. But, it did give us plenty of time to talk, and talk and talk and talk. About literature, our personal histories and scandals, politics, friends, hopes and aspirations.
He learned about me that I have trouble telling apart left and right, probably due to a brain lesion that I somehow acquired without even realizing it. I had to use this to justify the fact that I accidentally put the stamp in the wrong corner of a stack of something like 100 envelopes.
I learned about him that he considered himself a connoisseur of macaroni and cheese.
September 29, 2010 § 12 Comments
Sometimes I secretly think maybe my nutrition degree should be revoked. The thing is, I just think that using smaller plates, cooking more of our own food, and trying to squeeze in extra veggies wherever possible will get most of the job done. I can’t help but feel that bacon and butter are legitimate “spices.” Oh, and then there’s the matter of me and salted caramel. Pardon me for a moment while I glaze over and daydream about creamy, salty, buttery, luxuriousness…Oh no, was I drooling?! How embarrassing. Anyway, I firmly believe that one of the most important things we need to do to eat more healthfully is cut out as much sugar (or equivalent) as possible, but can adding some salt to your sugar count instead? Pleeeeeeeease??? (Real answer: definitely not. There’s actually something about the salty-sweet combination that trips up our brain and makes us less able to control how much we eat. Sometimes life is so unfair! )
It all began when Joel’s parents very thoughtfully sent me a care package back when I was studying for my comprehensive exams. I’m sure they had no idea that they were creating a salted caramel-obsessed monster when they tucked a tiny box of dark chocolate sea salt caramels from Fran’s in with the other goodies. I ate one. I promptly adopted the use of the phrase “O.M.G.” which I had steadfastly promised myself I would never use. Who would have thought that that dark smooth little chocolate cube, with its innocent little sprinkling of grey salt on top, could pack that much decadence into it?! I ate the second one, and amidst the bars of the “Alleluia Chorus” that were playing inside my head, I came this close to packing up everything and moving to Seattle so that I could go live behind Fran’s and eat nothing but their caramels forever more. (I’m sure the fact that I was studying for the most stressful exam of my life in no way contributed to my excited planning for an escape.)