Adventures with (Beginner)Indian Food
Buongiorno bellas (and bellos?)! Last night was fairly interesting. I had some great and some awful experiences with a genre of food in which I’ve always been interested: Indian fare.
I was inspired to create a meal around this puppy:
I’ve had a similar soup in a restaurant before, so I figured I’d enjoy this. Plus, Amy’s never disappoints. Well, I can’t say never anymore. To accompany the soup I made Happy Herbivore’s Roasted Channa. I didn’t have cumin or coriander, so I figured curry would be a good replacement (I’m working off minimal knowledge here). I also tossed some brussels into the mix. All plated:
Roasted channa and brussels blew me away. Intensely spicy and warm, this has to be my new favorite way to eat chickpeas (and I’d be content eating them plain). The recipe was also simple and quick. And then there was that soup… I’m sad to say it, but I didn’t enjoy this one bit. It is rare that I don’t finish something, but I took two bites of this and called it quits. It was bland and watery. When I opened the can there was this thick film I had to break through before I could get to the liquid. This threw me from the start. Despite this one bad experience of many good experiences with Amy’s, my loyalty is still in tact.
A dinner of some chickpeas and brussels did not satiate me. Therefore, I finished my last half of an English muffin with apple butter and blackberry spread:
I was ridiculous to think that would fill my still nearly-empty tum. Then I remembered I had this white chocolate macadamia rice crispie treat in my pantry:
Finally content, I headed uptown to meet MisterMan for a movie. We saw Last Chance Harvey. I’d been interested to see this and thought only good could come from Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson. Wrong-o again. The screenplay itself is dull and action-less. The movie moved slowly, felt emotionally empty and overall bored me. Harsh? I was nearly lulled to sleep. I’m just being honest.
For excitement and more quality time together, MisterMan and I stopped for one drink on our way home. The last thing I wanted to do was pull myself away from the social world and into the work cave that is my room, but it needed to be done.
I came home and couldn’t decide what to snack on. I had a few spicy blue corn tortilla chips, half a mini brownie and finally–the only thing I ever truly want at night–cereal.
That’s the box in the backround, readily available for immediate refills. I then delved into more h-dub and another application. This app was only for a campus thing, but I still hope good comes of it.
Installment Two: Sports Tales
1) My mother enrolled me in jazz and tap classes starting at age three. She didn’t necessarily want me to be a dancer, she just thought I needed to socialize with people my own age.
2) Even at age three, I was a complete diva on stage. Despite not knowing the choreography, I shoved girls out of the way so that I could be seen. Unfortunately, this is also on tape.
3) When I was 10 or 11 I wanted to try soccer desperately. No, it wasn’t the running around and kicking a ball that enticed me. It was the shoes. I wanted to know what it felt like to wear soccer cletes.
4) I played three years of varsity golf. I wasn’t known for my skillz. Just my huge sunglasses and pink Wilson Breast Cancer Awareness clubs ( I love them- actually they’re my mom’s). I didn’t incur many injuries, but I did receive a golf ball to the temple while someone was practicing her chipping technique. I saw stars for only a minute or two.
5) My jaw clicks whenever I talk, chew, make out, whathaveyou. I am convinced it is from many years of throwing girls up in the air for cheerleading stunts, and having their asses land on my face.
Have a fabulous day lovelies!
Ciao for now,
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