A lot has been going on lately, in my world and in the world at large. My heart is heavy from the devastation that has struck Japan, one of my most favorite cultures in the world. It’s nauseating to sit in my comfortable home with my daughter in my lap and read about disaster after disaster occurring thousands of miles away. I’m going to donate to Doctors Without Boarders or The Red Cross, and if you can find it in your budget, I urge you to do the same.
Isobel and I have been sick so often this year I’m going to refer to this time as “Plague Winter” from now on. The weekend started on shaky ground, with me taking Isobel to the doctor last-minute style as her ear infection was returning. As seems to be the case with every goddamn time she gets sick, I spent the weekend feeling like white hot death, shivering with the flu under a mound of blankets.
At this point you’re probably wondering what all these photos are about. I’ll get to it, I promise.
There’s no rest for the weary when you’re a Mama, however, a fact you’ll hear me unbecomingly complain about to the bitter end. Isobel’s second birthday is coming up, and we are planning a party this year. We are also leaving town this weekend, and I have a lot of business to finish up before we leave. (Oh, and I’m having an Etsy sale tomorrow, so stop by the shop and check it out!)
In fantastic news, I received word from an Anonymous Viking that a fourth season for Yo Gabba Gabba has finally been ordered. I like to think it’s because of all the amazing Little Big readers who signed the petition back in January. I also like to think that the Anonymous Viking is an elite super soldier who’s a double-agent working for The Man yet working with his own secret agenda. Yeah. I like to think these things.
So. Sandwiches. This is what I wanted to talk to you about.
Recently we went to San Francisco to celebrate my bestie’s birthday. She took us to one of her favorite spots, Leland Tea Company. Anthony and I intended on having a light lunch in preparation of the decadent dinner we had planned for that evening. The food, however, was so good, and we had been made ravenous by travel and inclement weather, that when the waiter delivered the sandwiches and the tea and the salad and the biscuits, we fell upon them.
We stuffed ourselves full of tomato and brie sandwiches with homemade pesto, turkey and Swiss cheese with a delicate mustard, egg salad, ham and cheddar, cucumber and cream cheese. The salad was slathered with an unctuous dressing and the madeleines were crispy, delicate, and buttery.
And because it was Angela’s birthday, the owner treated us with these (house made—like everything else) red velvet cupcakes with edible glitter.
Edible. Motherfucking. Glitter.
Twelve year old me had an aneurism and died in perfect tea party bliss.
But this lunch sparked some ideas. As you know I’ve been working out with my elliptical and have been trying to eat more healthily. I tried counting calories on a regular basis, but I found it maddeningly hard: calorie counting programs can give you precise information about processed foods, but I’ve been busting my ass to cook from whole ingredients and eschew prepackaged foods. I had no idea how difficult it was going to be to try to figure out how many calories are in a cup of soup I make myself, or in a piece of lasagna I froze two months ago. I don’t have the discipline, nor the patience, to figure the weights and measurements for each meal, and I have been feeling very defeated about that.
The trip to the tea company got me thinking—about lunch, about menu planning, and about losing weight. But that’s another post, and I’ll be telling you all about it very soon.