For no particular reason, I am bone tired. Tired as in I keep thinking about closing my eyes and sleeping. As in, I forget what ingredient I’m supposed to get out of the fridge in the two steps to get there. And I just can’t muster the energy to write up a shopping list so I can fill the larder and freezer.
When I’m this tired, I tend to do stupid things. Like forgetting I need celery when I’m picking up shrimp and peppers for shrimp étouffée. And I foolishly cave to the boys’ please for a smoothie from Boba Express. How bad could it be? Plenty bad. They start with a brightly-colored, gloopy “fruit” syrup, add a mysterious white powder and ice. They blend it up and put it in the magic machine that melts a lid onto it. Out of curiosity, I had a sip of Number One Son’s kiwi smoothie. It tastes likes a kiwi about as much as a cough drop tastes like a cherry. Two hours later, my tongue still feels burned, and I highly suspect that at least one of the ingredients in the mysterious white powder is MSG.
The upside to the smoothie debacle is that it makes me feel better about my pseudo grocery shopping this morning, yielding the overpackaged vegetables that Trader Joe's specializes in. The bell peppers may have come from Mexico and be sealed against nuclear holocaust, but at least they’re organic. Even if I don’t have any celery.
No comments:
Post a Comment