Wasn't This About a Sandwich?

So, does it count as salad if it's on two pieces of toast, with bacon and mayo?

'Cause I think it's should.

Though really, I hate mayonnaise. I put it on the sandwich anyway.

The problem was I really had my heart set on baking cookies. Then I realized I didn't have any eggs. I couldn't figure out what to do with myself. I had spoken to KristaBeth earlier in the day and SHE was baking cookies. So I had been thinking about cookies for about four hours by the time I realized I only had one egg.

At this point, I could have gone to the store.

Have you ever had one of those days though, when you vow to yourself as you wake up that you are not, under any circumstances, leaving the house that day? In fact, if you can manage it, you will not even get out of your pajamas? I was having one of those days. And lack of eggs for cookies was just not enough to make me walk the three blocks to 7-11.

Lazy, it's true. I know.

So there I was, faced with a kitchen full of ingredients and not a single recipe in my brain. Well no. I have tons of recipes in my brain. And even more recipes on the shelves of the little cabinet next to the fridge. I just didn't have any I felt like making.

Actually, I've had something with corn and black beans in it, on my mind as of late. I even bought a bunch of cilantro yesterday. I just don't have black beans. Or corn for that matter. But I bet, whatever it is, will be good. Whenever I figure out what it's going to be. I had some black bean soup at a diner the other day. Disappointed by it's thinness, I feel like I can do better. Or perhaps some sort of casserole.

It's casserole weather. Crisp and clear. Wind whipping up the leaves and carrying the scents from a million hipster-restaurants up to my third floor windows. It makes me want to saute and stir and mix and bake and eat.

Mostly eating.

Eating soft, squishy, spiced dishes with complicated, yet comforting flavors. Something to dunk bread into. Or something to spread on top of bread. Things cooked in crusts, or until the edges crisp around the corningware. Eating things that leave a lingering aroma. That's what I feel like eating.

I could make all of these things. I have the capacity to create these luxurious dishes. There are just a few obstacles complicating my desires.

First of all, there's the cost of tasty good ingredients for all of these things. Food is expensive. And the better the food, the more expensive it is. Cuts of meat, fresh vegetables - not cheap. Potato chips and bags of semi-prepared, sodium laden pastas - those are.

Secondly, there's the time and energy it takes to make all of these things are so few hours in a day and so many projects to accomplish. By the time I am hungry enough to start thinking about cooking something all I want is for food to appear before me. What I really need to do is dedicate an entire day to making some big dishes that can be eaten off of for a few days. Only curling up on the couch in front of the cable is so much easier. And sleeping, sleeping is also easier. It takes much less energy.

The other part of the problem is that if I really started cooking all of this good food, all of the time and have it around whenever I just wanted it, I would be a big, fat, balloon of a whale-girl before my birthday.

My 30th birthday.

And that, my friends, is a topic for another time.