There are about seventy hours left to this helliday. That is, until the technical end. Then we have to stay up until the wee hours to put the house back together. And then, while everyone else eats pizza at 2 AM, I am going to sleep, because unlike some people, I have to work the next day.
On the topic of work: I need some advice here. This co-worker about whom I am always complaining? He is really pissing me off. I know it’s not my problem, but when I arrive at 8.00 AM and he doesn’t roll in until after 10.00, and then he just leaves for the day at 1.30 when I’m sticking around until 2.00 … I’m sorry, that just doesn’t seem fair. I don’t want to be the bitch and tattle; I’m not the type of person who does that. But I really feel like my blood pressure is going to go through the roof if something doesn’t change.
I cannot wait until all this “Pesach food” is out of my face. But, until then…
These “pancakes,” quite frankly, are not very good. (Well, big surprise there, huh?!) That’s why I’m trying to get rid of them all before Pesach is over! Vanilla yogurt and banana helped a bit, I guess.
I am aware of the fact that this next picture is of a pile of produce. I had a vegetable baby after eating it (and yes, I ate it all by myself). That sucks especially because I didn’t want to do that on purpose — fill up on vegetables to avoid higher-calorie food. There just isn’t any other food to eat.
Eggplant and yellow squash, grilled on the Foreman. It was good, but it would have been a lot better had I actually been able to spice it.
Beans and legumes are a no-no on Pesach; hence, no peanut butter. I decided to try and make my own almond butter, so I shelled twenty almonds, at which point I grew tired of doing that and threw them all in the food processor. Maybe twenty almonds was not enough, because I wound up with almond meal, not almond butter. I didn’t want to burn out the motor on the food processor, so I just stopped. After a couple of days, I decided what to do with it:
Croutons! During the year, we have these soup croutons — AKA, “mandelen.” The word mandel means “almond” (which is why mandelbread goes by that name, even though these days it often has no almonds in it). There aren’t actually any almonds in the soup croutons, but my Pesach version obviously deserves its name! I mixed the almond meal with one egg white and popped it in the microwave for a minute to firm up. Then I diced the “omelet” and put the pieces in the broiler to darken / crisp up. Apparently, I should have left them in there for longer, because they were too soft. You live, you learn, I guess.
And, of course, what’s a post without some mention of internal conflict? This time, it was spurred by this:
Times four. Which is actually about a third of the “recommended serving size,” which doesn’t make any sense to me… but then again, I’m not a chocoholic. I don’t dislike chocolate, but it’s not something I feel like I need to have; I can take it or leave it. So I don’t understand why I feel so inexplicably guilty over this.
Dark chocolate is supposedly good for you, right?! … I don’t know, maybe it’s because chocolate in general is associated with decadence or indulgence. Obviously a big “no-no.”
Still stagnating on this stupid project. I am sure I will regret this — it won’t get itself done, after all — but even thinking about it makes me want to scream. Or go to sleep.
Have a lovely Sunday.
“I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.”
(It is difficult. But I will refrain from adding commentary here.)