Sunday, January 27, 2013

A Shocking Revelation



I'm going to be 26 this year.

 Up until recently I didn't see why my standard diet could not or should not be comprised primarily of the staples of my kitchen. I have to admit that the contents of my fridge on any given day could be summed up in what I like to call the 3 P's :

Pasta sauce. Peanut Butter. And the most important of the three P's : Pickles.

Yes, if I could survive solely on pickles, I would. I could argue the merits of pickles for days -
2. Pickles are made from vegetables, which, by using my acute powers of observation and analysis of the new "Food Plate", I can see makes up nearly 33% of what you should be ingesting per meal.
 You can go get your learn on about why the Food Plate seems pretty good, or just search "Why the Food Pyramid sucks" to get a more politically driven side of that story.  I digress.
3. They taste delicious.
5. Let's go back to how delicious the pickle is.

Ok, Ok. So the nutritional facts kinda backfired on me - the pickle, I understand, is a glorified cucumber loaded with sodium... mmmmm, hello, high blood pressure! Considering the common occurrence in which I sit down to a jar of pickles and eat the whole thing in one sitting, I wouldn't be all that surprised if hypertension were in my near future. 

The peanutbutter should help counterblanace that, right?

I have no idea. You figure it out.


The point is,  despite the fact that I would be perfectly content spooning peanut butter into my gob for lunch and gnoshing on pickles for dinner, and perhaps getting real creative and dipping said pickles into said peanut butter for dessert, I realize that no respectable 25 year old (It was a shocking revelation to discover that amazingly, somehow, I am a respectable 25 year old, with a respectable job for a 25 year old...how has this happened to me? Look at your life! Look at your choices!) eats this way.  And sooner or later, I'd have to Lady-Up and learn how to feed myself, learn how to cook, so when I have guests over, I have more to offer them than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or pasta with marinara sauce from the jar.

The pickles are not offered. Sorry, those are mine.

So, I embark on a journey into a land I've never before been to.  A land where I might learn how to feed myself. And blog about it.