With all the giddiness of someone enthralled by “texture combos” and puzzled by the mysteries of whether one drinks or eats a smoothie, Kathy sat down with a “second cup of joe in hand,” by which she means decaffeinated froth she plays at being coffee and introduced her weekly roundup of random food items thusly:
…“omg, I haven’t written my Saturday post yet!” My Adaptation has been amazing for our family, and it’s allowed me so much more time to spend with them.
Kathy, everyone — perhaps the only 30-year-old who thinks it’s appropriate to say “omg” and then refer to how she doesn’t post a daily food journal online anymore as “My Adaptation” like she’s Willa Fucking Cather or something.
So what did Kathy eat this last week?
• Oatmeal that claims to be “whipped,” containing both landscape gravel-looking, tooth-fracturing raw buckwheat (Kathy’s “new favorite texture combo!”) and on top with two kinds of cutesy fat, coconut and “sunbutter.”
• A smoothie Kathy is confused about because she doesn’t know what she’s doing to them — “drinking (eating?)” — and plus, she has to get “pumped up for” said smoothie because she doesn’t want one because she’s “always in the mood for something hot this time of year.” Guys, life is tough. No one ever told Kathy that adult life would be faced with these kinds of mind-wracking philosophical impasses. Luckily, Kathy overcomes in classic style, by laying out her smoothie shit the night before so that she doesn’t have to grapple with frozen berries, frozen peaches, a halved banana, milk and Greek yogurt.
The perk was less time from bed –> breakfast in the AM!
I mean, really. Girlfriend has so-called “Irish Soda Bread” from the fakery to toast! She doesn’t have time to think about making a smoothie! Or constructing a sentence that doesn’t look like it was transcribed directly from a grocery list on the back of an electric bill envelope.
• “French toast” made from aforementioned alleged “Irish Soda Bread,” which is basically an international incident waiting to happen. Alas, even with bananas and sweetened nut butter (sold on a site that has you add the product to your “nest” instead of your basket, because heaven forbid adults not get to pretend that buying ground up nuts and sugar online is like a trip to Disneyland) it was still disappointing. Quoth Kathy:
(it wasn’t my favorite because it wasn’t dense and doughy like our whole grain breads)
• Salad and a thing of strawberry yogurt and what looks like a potato with said yogurt glopped on it. Kathy manages to describe this meal using no verbs whatsoever, because part of “My Adaptation” is being 26% less comprehensibly than normal:
Salad + leftover green beans + leftover sweet potato wedges with coconut butter + ISB + avocado + SIggi’s Strawberry!
• The “Irish Soda Bread” would not die, with “melty butter on top” (as opposed to the kind of butter that does not melt and is served underneath the bread), accompanying a spinach salad with “Trader Joe’s smoked herring, carrots, celery, red pepper, a touch of mayo and mustard.” Just a touch, y’all, because you wouldn’t want to go overboard with the heady flavor combinations of mayonnaise and mustard.
• Spinach salad “topped with leftover lentil salad I made for dinner (I really should show dinners first because I use leftovers so often!) with avocado, goat feta and Garden Of Eatin’ Sweet Potato Chips (still in love).” Thank you for including your notes to yourself about how you should organize your blog, Kathy. Way to add value for your readers.
• More spinach salad, fakery “Gouda and Stout bread” and
Leftover quiche (see dinners)
Don’t tell me what to do, Kathy! And please, tuck that spinach back in. It’s unseemly.
• Said quiche she promises she will turn into a “full recipe” because, even at incomplete-recipe status, she and Bath Matt are “obsessed” with it. Like, seriously, they’re checking up on their quiche’s Facebook status every ten minutes and driving by its house late at night with their headlights off and sending weird letters to the quiche’s ex-girlfriends and shit. It’s actually kind of disturbing.
• Baked halibut with lemon and parmesan cheese that looks like it came from a can, potatoes “and more parm cheese” and broccoli allegedly “sauteed … with the drippings from the fish” and topped with “more cheese!” that she again takes the time to say was “on top!” Because one of the keys to an “amazing” dinner is making sure you don’t sprinkle cheese beneath, nearby, or through things.
Also, thank goodness she specified “parm cheese,” because otherwise she could totally be talking about parm wine, parm nut butter or parm cupcake sprinkles.
• “Lentil Salad with Butternut Squash, Collards, Walnuts and Feta [Recipe coming this week!]” and boy, that recipe can’t come soon enough, because how the hell else would someone figure out how to cook a lentil, heat up some squash and collards, and combine those with walnuts and feta? Without the proper guidance, you’re liable to end up with some inedible abomination like walnuts, feta, collards, squash and lentils — blech!
• Our saint of recipes again promises guidance with her “crockpot herbed chicken with rice and Brussels sprouts. Greek yogurt on the side,” swearing that she will soon provide her readers with “Half a recipe.”
Which half? That’s the surprise! It’s like Kathy’s Cardenio — half a recipe tantalizingly lost in the mists for all time! I hope she tells us the half of the recipe instructing readers on how to turn chicken into Laura Ingalls’ sod hut.
• There was also some bewildering time travel brought on Kathy’s trip to her sister’s wedding location scouting weekend:
It was a short week because of our trip to Bald Head. I went from palm trees to SNOW – 9 inches!!
So, yeah. You think you lost an hour with Daylight Savings Time? A vortex betwixt Charlottesville and the North Carolina shore literally ate part of her week — and probably without nut butter! Back at home, the horrors continued, as Kathy “hunkered” at home, closing the fakery she wouldn’t have been going to anyway and avoiding the part of her yard underneath the scary tree limbs with snow on them, even though she would have no reason to go out into her yard in the middle of the winter anyway with no neighbor cats to bother and dirty carrots to be grossed out about.
Kathy ends with a random baby-brag about how Baby Carbz is an A student in height. Because she is totally such a self-proclaimed “nerd,” she explains it in bafflingly advanced science speak:
His dad’s side of the family has some tall, tall genes, so we think he might have pulled more from the Y than the X in that category
That, or it was all the spray paint and oats while he was gestating.