In my effort to put off eating turnips as long as possible (I have until the end of March, which is plenty of time) I decided to make muffins for dinner last night. This decision was informed not by a remarkable lack of food in the house (although there was a remarkable lack of food in the house) but by a family tradition of eating breakfast for supper when the day was too long and the night was too short to come up with anything better or more creative. And when there was a remarkable lack of food in the house.
So last night I did what I always do when I make muffins. I cut open the Martha White packet of bran muffin mix (see bit above about lack of food in the house, I didn’t even have mix for good muffins, like blueberry or strawberry, mmmm). Dumped the powdery contents into a bowl. Added 2/3 cup of milk. And then all of a sudden I grossed myself out.
No reason for this:
When I own this:
Why am I using this processed packet of bullshit when I have an entire cookbook devoted solely to muffins, with which I can aspire to the greatest muffin heights, and make the fanciest of fancy pants muffins? Why?
So I was thinking. When JVV ends—and it will end, I will beat every goddamn vegetable on my list, including turnips, and this will all be over, and we’ll all go back to our regularly scheduled lives—my regularly scheduled life is going to feel hollow and empty without something to growl at and beat down. Since I’m good at basically nothing, it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out what’s next, and until last night I was pretty settled on gardening/planting shit/trying not to kill live things (ok, I lied about being good at nothing, I’m really, really good at killing things), but when I shared this with Naysayer Tom he said, “I’ve met you, you can’t garden hot and fast.” So maybe I’ll put off gardening a bit longer and start with something ever so slightly less difficult but way, way more rewarding, like baking. Muffins and cakes and pies and truffles (can you get those from baking?) and things I’ve never heard of. Really fancy pants baking. Like Food Network fancy.
Here are the ground rules: Cookies are off the table because I’ll quit before I ever get started. And I’m gonna need one of these.