Were I a food blogger, I would have posted this morning that I am completely uninspired. All week Thomas has been fussy for most of the afternoon, and last night was more like a series of catnaps, with a big awake time from 3:40 to 5:10, than “a good night’s sleep.” Which means dinners have been hastily thrown together, and breakfasts and lunches not even worth mentioning, really. I browse recipes. I stare into the abyss of my refrigerator. And then Thomas and I eat the same things over and over (banana with peanut butter, yogurt, oatmeal, nuts, dried dates…).
Were I food blogger, I would then tell you how I found myself starving today. After nursing most of the night and said banana + pb then oatmeal with yogurt for breakfast, noon found me ravenous. So I took a half a sandwich bag of cooked pintos out of the freezer and dumped them in a pot with a little water. A few (well, five) cloves of garlic, plus some powdered. Chili powder. Salt and pepper. Not even a teaspoon of mustard, just because it sounded like a good idea.
Then, while the beans defrosted and heated, Thomas and I sat in the bath and dumped water on each other.
Let me tell you, coming downstairs to the garlic smell and diving into the bowl of beans was amazing. Thomas seems to think so, too, as he keeps grabbing for my bowl (don’t worry – he’s being given his fair share).
Maybe I wasn’t (am not) uninspired because nothing is interesting enough. Maybe I’m just not looking at the right things. Because I think I’m making another batch of these beans for dinner.
Does this mean the past week has been any less rough? Does it mean I feel like less of a loony when my husband comes home to find me drained and short-tempered? Does it mean that next week will definitely be better? Nope. But I have these beans now.
Were I a food blogger, I probably would have taken a picture.