So, there I was, hunched waaay over my keyboard, finger on mouse, and I'm scrolling down my facebook home page. Beautifully colored pictures delight my eye and cause my taste buds to come to life.
I've noticed over the last several months many friends have been posting recipes, most of them tend to run along the edge of being 'healthful', while some are...well, down right 'sinful'. Guess which one I lean toward?
Anyway, there I was hunched over...as Frankie enters the room.
Frankie: "Uuuuuuu, what's that?"
Me: "A cookie. A no-bake cookie."
Frankie: (Leaning in closer to the monitor) "Can we make those?"
Me: "We could if we had all the ingredients."
Frankie: "It says we can add whatever ingredients we want."
Me: "I know, but, it just so happens there's not much in our pantry at the moment."
Frankie hustles her body out of the office, I know she's on her way to the pantry. She's a non-believer. I know the 'pickin's are lean, but I call out "good luck" as she disappears down the dark hallway.
See, I know the problem with all these wonderful looking dishes, there are always items needed to make them that I do not have and never will have in my pantry. Plus, I'm not going to go out and buy them (especially herbs and spices) (Have you priced them lately?) when I know I'm only going to use them once. I've already jars of fenugreek, mustard seed, cardamom, juniper berries and turmeric that I bought years ago, used once and now sit with their lids covered with dust and flour particles.
Oh yes, those entrées, salads and desserts I'm looking at are tempting. So tempting.
But, I refuse to cave and give into to their siren call.
Rustle, rustle, shuffle, shuffle. It's Frankie back from her excursion to the pantry.
Frankie: "Look what I found!"
In her arms there's our box of instant oatmeal, raisins, shredded coconut, graham crackers and six of seven Payday candy bars. She is so pleased with herself, and the look on her face is like that of a child just before opening that first Christmas present.
I try to look enthusiastic, pleased with her finds and give her a lame smile.
Frankie: "What, what?"
Me: "These are great, Frankie...."
Frankie: "But..."
Me: "One very big, key ingredient is missing."
I hate being the bearer of bad news. She's looking at me as though I've burst her last balloon. She sighs, the kind she learned from me that's dredged up from the soles of her feet.
Frankie: "What?"
Me: "Chocolate, the agent that binds all these ingredients together. You melt it, stir in all the stuff, then put the cookies into the fridge to set. You've got to have chocolate."
I don't know what else to say. She stands there frozen in place, dejected. I try to make it better.
Me: "Well, actually, the ingredients we do have wouldn't make a very good cookie anyway. It would help if we had miniature marshmallows and candied fruits. Maybe some walnuts or almonds, too."
Her face brightened. "Maybe we could buy some of that stuff next time you order groceries."
I smile and nod. She leaves the room to return her treasures to the panty.
I return my gaze to my computer monitor...there is that beautiful, shiny, no-cook cookie. I scroll down through the day's entries. I wonder if there is a recipe for good, old-fashioned meatloaf there.
Damn recipes.
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