Have you ever eaten a cheese burger with a fork?

I did. Last night.


Chewing was difficult and could only be accomplished on the left side of my mouth. I also took off the bottom bun because that was too much bread to get stuck in my braces.

But I did it, and it was the best thing I've eaten in a month.

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PS. As soon as I get my cast off next week and can stand on my own two feet I'm going to make this from The Pioneer Woman. Oh mercy! I had to stop myself from drooling when I read this post this morning.

Produce

My good friend Shannon lives in Brooklyn with her fiance Khuong. I've talked about them before. This morning, while I was farting around on facebook, I saw that Shannon had posted some new pictures. Some of them were of their sweet little fire escape garden they planted for the summer. They are growing herbs and tomatoes. They may be growing other things, but she didn't post pictures of the "other things" so I only know about the herbs and tomatoes.

Looking at Shannon's pictures reminded me of a few things.

First it reminded me that I was supposed to be leaving this coming Thursday to go see Shannon and Khuon in the big city. Then I had my accident and had to postpone my departure. This is something I have allowed myself to be a little bitter about. One, because I love New York. Two, because I love Shannon (and Khuong) and I don't get to see her nearly enough, and three because this trip was supposed to be my birthday present from my wonderful husband, and now I don't have a present.

The next thing I thought of was that Andy was planning on making a little garden at the ski shop this summer. There isn't a lot of business at the shop this time of year and there is a perfect little garden spot on the side of the building. This is something else that my accident has put on hold, but now that I'm a little more self sufficient and can be left alone for a while; maybe Andy can plant his little garden. Warm weather comes a little more slowly here so it's probably not too late. I really love tomatoes, especially home grown tomatoes. As soon as Andy gets out of bed I'm going to remind him of his garden plans.

Lastly, I was reminded of the summer we spent at our previous apartment, and like Shannon and Khuon, we attempted to grow a little garden out on our porch. Mostly we just had flowers, all of which died except my hydrangea plant. It went into hybernation mode for the winter and our landlord dumped it out in the trash. He thought it was dead and that he was doing us a favor. I was ready to kill him, but I didn't because I realized he was just trying to help and after all, I could just get another plant in the spring. I did get another plant, but not until we moved into our current apartment where there is a little flower bed outside our door. My hydrangea is in the ground now, where no one will mistake it for a dead potted plant. It needs to be pruned so it will sprout this year.

The only food item we tried to grow in our little potted garden was tomatoes. Have I told you how much I love home grown tomatoes? If I could get my hands on an heirloom tomato plant I'd guard that thing like my life depended on it. Have you ever had an heirloom tomato? YUM!

But I digress.

Our tomato plants didn't do so well. They needed a lot more space and soil than we were able to give them in our meager terracotta pots. We were terribly dissapointed in our bounty, or lack thereof. We only managed to produce one tiny cherry sized tomato. It was the most beautiful shade of red. We let it stay on the vine a little long in hopes that it might grow larger, but it stayed cherry sized. But it didn't, so we picked it and ceremoniously cut it in two equal parts. Then we each ate half of our harvest.

That was the best damn tomato I've ever eatten. Andy agrees. Seriously. When we were done eating our halves we looked at each other and said, "I want some more" simultaneously. I can still remember how it tasted.

We took a picture for posterity's sake.
This is almost fully grown,
but it did turn red, like I said

My hope is that this year we will produce that same wonderful flavor, but in much larger quantities. I'll be sure to update you.


*This totaly random post brought to you today by a highly medicated blogger. Sorry...

The incredible shrinking man

It's almost eleven at night and Andy just started making homemade waffles because he decided he was hungry.

You know those commercials with the cartoon woman who gives up soda for water and her cartoon husband just switches to diet soda, and then she only drops like ten pounds and he shrinks by half?

Yeah, I'm married to that man. He's not a cartoon. He actually exists.

Andy will probably lose five pounds this week and I'll gain ten just by close proximity to these waffles.

At least I'm not having to make them, right? Silver lining.

**My stomach just growled. I'm going to bed.**

Learn from my mistakes

In case you were wondering, it's not a good idea to eat an entire pie in less than twenty four hours by yourself.

Not because it will make you sick. Oh no, I have a stomach made of steel. You shouldn't because you'll feel like a fatty and then it will be raining buckets and thirty five degrees outside and you won't be able to go for your scheduled run. Then you'll feel even more fat and be convinced that you put on ten pounds over night.

So, next time there is a pie on your counter saying "eat me!" just say no. Walk away. Or better yet take it outside and give it to a neighbor so they can feel like a fatty instead of you.

But, damn, it was good.

And so it begins

Last summer Wendy's re-vamped their frozen treat menu. Not only did they have frosties, but they also had two flavors, and mix-ins, and milkshakes and frosty floats.

For about two months Andy and I were regular visitors to the late night drive through window because what's better than ice cream right before bed? Especially in an apartment with no air conditioning.

Last week Andy's cravings came back. It's a little early as the temperature during the day hasn't risen above 75 and at night it's sill in the 30's sometimes.

Currently he is out getting his second frosty float in two weeks. As the temperature rises the trips will only become more frequent.

This is not good.

I decided to forgo the trip this time. Not because I have self control. Oh no, think about who you're talking to here. I don't even know what self control means. No, I opted out of a frosty because I decided last night to make a peanut butter pie and spent the day consuming half of it all by myself.

As I have another half for tomorrow I decided that a frosty was probably overkill.

But next week is my birthday week and all bets are off. If I want a frosty I'm going to have one. Even if I ate a whole pie already that day.

Gratitude, Day 19

Do you live in North Carolina like I do? Have you ever eaten at Village Inn Pizza?

If you haven't you should find the one nearest to you and go there immediately. If you don't live here, but will be visiting, then you should go to Village Inn while you're here.

Everyone has that one pizza place that is their own definition of the perfect pizza. Village Inn is that pizza place for me. My memories of this pizza parlor go back to childhood when my family would go there and my brother and I would watch them make our pizzas from our booth. You can see the kitchen and brick oven from the dinning room. We would sit there, backwards in the booth seat, waiting with quiet anticipation for the moment that our pizza would come out, hot, steamy, and delicious.

Sadly there is not a Village Inn where I live now. It's a serious flaw in this community. Sometimes I find myself craving it and seriously consider making the two hour round trip just to have it. My cravings are pretty strong. Pregnancy is going to be interesting for me some day.

Today I made a visit to my hometown. I had a luncheon with sausage and pepperoni. It was heaven. I think if we ever move to another location in this state I'll request that we take into consideration how far we are from the closest Village Inn.

Gratitude, Day 3

I am a picky eater. I know, shocker, right?

As I have gotten older I've become more adventurous and find myself eating things that ten years ago you couldn't have paid me to eat. Still, there are some things that turn me off, so the small child in me presses her lips together and shakes her head in avid defiance as that spoon full of gross comes at her.

Andy is not a picky eater. Not at all. I've never known him to not try something at least once. If he doesn't like it, go ahead and try to make him eat it again, but usually he adds another notch to the "food I'll consume" column.

You can imagine that we collide often over our two different approaches to new food. He regularly badgers me to try something I've never had and I revert back to my childish ways stinging such verbal bullets as, "You can't make me!"

For the past several months Andy has been fighting a food war with me. A while back he discovered a love for sushi. One food that I had sworn off of for life. Being the patient man that he is, Andy has been slowly picking away at my resolve until tonight he asked again and I said, "Oh, what the hell, why not."

So, tonight my gratitude is directed at the sushi roll I consumed in record time, for its goodness and the promise that I can drive about five minutes to have some more; and to my husband for taking my mother's place as food shover. Thanks honey, that was yummy.