Image courtesy The Graphics Fairy
The good news is that our errand routes take us past a good, inexpensive ($5 and change) Chinese takeout place as well as several Subways (the only fast food I like).
The bad news is that we started relying on them a little too much. In addition to a lot of leftovers going to waste (boo), I started feeling bloated from the sodium and Mystery know what else. Not good. Hubby’s blood pressure started creeping up the dial. Even worse, considering that his mom had chronic headaches and kidney problems from hers.
On top of that, the takeout containers and sauce packets collecting in the fridge doors were getting out of hand.
We talked it over and decided that advance prep and planning would be a good thing. I don’t think it will be that difficult to plan out what we’re going to eat this week. Saturday I made a Crock-Pot full of chicken caccitore (ok, you caught me–a couple pounds of thighs, drumsticks, and wings braised in a high quality jarred pasta sauce. Sunday I tried a new-to-us recipe involving tofu whipped into a creamy sauce, pasta, and veggies. The author called it a “quiche.” I called it a “casserole.” If one were to make the sauce, change up the seasonings and veggies, and pour it into a pie crust, you would have a respectable vegan quiche. I’ll try that next time. I’ll invest some time today in prepping hummus and a bowl of fruit salad to go with what I made.
With those two meals, we have plenty to get us through at lunch and dinner until I run errands further east later this week. Before I go, we’ll look at recipes and plan things from there.
Breakfast is not included. We get up at different times because, well, we do. Hubby needs to be out of the house by 6:15 on school days or face a 45 minute commute more than doubling. He sleeps in until the call of nature rouses him on other days. Except for eggs, hummus, and the occasional batch of muffins, we both have our individual preferences in the morning. He likes his plain bagels. I like oatmeal or yogurt.
So we begin. Say tuned for updates.
I’ll try almost anything foodwise once. I loved clams and spinach in my early elementary years; one of the most memorable meals I had in adulthood was on a trip to Chinatown with a coworker of Hubby’s who was from Taiwan. Within our parameters, she did the ordering. I have no clue what we ate, but oh, my, was it good.
However, there are some foods that I just do not care for at all. I just don’t like them. Period. I will take a bite or two for politeness’ sake, but please do not try to feed me the following:
- Kale. I really don’t care for kale very much. I have tried it in salads, braised in ginger, garlic, and soy, and in green drinks. I don’t hate it; I just don’t care for it for some reason. Yes, I know it’s supposed to be the best thing since the last big trendy veggie, but I just don’t like it. In chips (de-stem, spread on baking sheet, sprinkle with melted coconut oil and garlic, and bake at 350 for 10 min. or until crunchy), yes, but otherwise, no, thank you.
- Bananas. Between the dizzying amount of sugar, the pasty texture, and the trigger for memories of mashing them up for Orion his last days, spare me these. I like banana baked goods and in green drinks where the protein powder and berries or cherries mask their presence, but sweet Baby Jesus, keep them away from me.
- Most pork products. Yuck. Bacon on occasion, but ham and the rest? YUCK. Especially on pizza. YUCK YUCK YUCK YUCK! If I had a dollar for every piece I gagged down when I was in college to keep peace with roommates or while trying to impress a date, I could make a significant donation to some worthy cause.
- White wine. Even when sipping mindfully, the only notes I detect are rubbing alcohol and lighter fluid.
- Raw mushrooms and cauliflower. No.
- Donuts. The combo of the fat and sugar and the texture repel me. Except for the one’s from Freddy’s, the long-demised donut shop of my childhood that cranked out perfect cake-like glazed cherry ones.
Other than that, I’m pretty easy to feed. Nothing hip and trendy, please, and make it nicely seasoned. And I will be a happy WolfMama, indeed