Good enough to warrant a second helping! A gift from Sergio, and David, just returned from the States. Not sure they have these in Mexico, but then they don’t have the king of Cheetos, Cheetos Torciditos !!!, in the U.S.
Ode to Cheetos
If you’ve given up on lunch
and seek a substitute with punch,
Cheetos are my favorite snacks
that can be found sealed up in sacks.
Always flavorful and munchy,
crisp and satisfyingly crunchy
between lips and teeth and gums,
enjoyable from cheeks to tums.
Though they’re often underrated,
I feel that they have been berated
by makers of crackers and chips
as well as creators of dips,
due to envy and to spite,
for citrus drinks like Squirt and Sprite
complement their spicy bite,
setting all the world to right.
So buy a bag without delay.
Do not wait another day.
You’ll be elated that you did,
and also happy that you hid
the bag so as you start to chew,
you know that it is all for you!
(Hint: Get the bag marked “Torciditos.”
They’re the premiere type of Cheetos!!!)
For more Cheetos excitement, go here: https://judydykstrabrown.com/2022/12/26/a-very-cheetos-christmas/
Prompt words today are citrus, spite, crunchy, crisp, delay, happy and berated.
Not fiction. I am addicted to these little devils and everyone I’ve introduced them to has become hooked as well. I guess I do you no favors in sharing my favorite vice. I may have to go buy some now. Fortunately, (regrettably?) a little shop I must pass on my way to or from home sells them.
Dietary Doldrums
Her eating habits, luckily, were found to be most corrigible,
for her personality was found to still be porridgeable.
Oatmeal formed her breakfast and salads formed her lunch
as she foresook the bad foods on which she used to munch.
Buttery popcorn banished as an unhealthy mistake,
she snacked instead on kale chips for her figure’s sake.
Rare steak was soon banished, for she relished it no more
once she foresook flesh meats, shuddering at their gore.
Her electric grinder ground chickpeas up instead
and this was the protein upon which she fed.
Healthy ever after once her war with food was won,
meals sugarless and greaseless, alas, were not much fun.
\Prompt words today are buttery, personality, gore, corrigible, Steak and electric. Image by Deryn Macey on Unsplash.
This is probably the strangest conglomeration of close-ups you will ever see. What they have in common is simply that they were all taken within a 24-hour period and I like them all.
Wild Turkey
Grandpa’s going ballistic, because in place of turkey,
my vegetarian sister is serving us tofurkey!
Grandma lost her lower plate, her jaw dropped down so far
when Sis brought in cranberries served from their store-bought jar.
All the usual “ooohs” and “aahs” were just replaced with sighs.
Milk-and-butterless potatoes and no whipped cream on the pies?
The food that we partook of was devoid of any beast.
Only plants were massacred to engineer our feast.
It was mayhem at the table and I flinched from the barrage
of complaints when all my family’s men took off for the garage
to imbibe in liquid turkey of their own variety,
“Wild Turkey” likely being the only bird they’d see.
Sis smacked her lips with relish and devoured the whole meal,
it being most unlikely that the rest of us would steal
even a single morsel. We’d already made our plans
to hop into our Hondas, our Buicks and our vans
and all stop by for pizza and some ice cream as a way
for us to put Thanksgiving back into our day.
Meanwhile, in the dining room, Auntie popped a cork,
declaring that next year she’d cook, and she’d be serving pork!!!
Prompt words for the day are chorus, mayhem, tofurkey,cork and garage.
Weight Watcher Coup
Why would my Weight Watchers meet in a restaurant
that’s a buffet where diners can eat all they want?
I guess it’s to practice resisting temptation,
but instead I am feeling severe perturbation.
Potatoes and gravy and chicken and peas
and desserts where a person can eat all they please
are simply not kosher when one should be dieting.
Instead of resisting, I find myself rioting.
I charged up to the counter and filled up my plate
with a pile of entrees I’m ashamed to relate.
Then muffins and crepes and strawberry pie
spilled over the sides and reached up to the sky.
Something about me was slightly off-kilter,
and I found I was eating without any filter.
If they’d pared down the menu, I’d have much less naughty,
and the folks at my table might have looked way less haughty.
My table mates clucked and looked sad and disgusted.
It was clear at buffets I was not to be trusted.
Yet I noticed also some looks of regret
as they surveyed these goodies that they, too, could get
if only they had the nerve to break ranks:
scalloped potatoes and baked beans with franks,
chocolate eclairs and ice cream with hot fudge
all could be theirs with nobody to judge.
Yet what could it hurt, just one serving of gravy?
Just one piece of chicken, one biscuit and maybe
one serving of pudding without the whipped cream?
Would one scoop of vanilla really be extreme?
I saw resolve falter as one after one
they returned to the line for a muffin or bun,
chicken fried steak or some pork or some shrimp—
first with restraint, then ceasing to scrimp.
And that’s how I broke up our Weight Watcher’s bunch
after a single ill-fated lunch.
I’m not proud of my actions and the resolves I’ve killed,
but at least for the present I’m sufficiently filled!
Prompt words for the day are filter, naughty, meeting, pare and menu.
The rest of the story is that I have 16 hours to go until I can eat again! So I’m torturing myself more than you.
Here’s a closeup:
2:45 P.M. Sent a message that I was coming up from the studio to get some lunch and evidently lay down for a minute on my bed to rest before going back down to the studio.
8:15 P.M. Awakened, not sure if that was the sunset or the sunrise. Discovered it was the sunset of the third longest day of the year and went to the kitchen to feed the cats. Raining hard. No swim tonight.
10:25 P.M. Sent a message to Forgottenman that somehow the trip to feed the cats had resulted in my cooking a chicken curry, now in the oven and a pot of barley, now in the steam cooker. (Yes, it really did take that many dishes to create the chicken curry and barley!)
11:11 P.M. Sitting down to chicken curry and barley
11:23 P.M. It was delicious! Now, do I go to bed or am I up for the day?
Memory Games
Woke up very early today—around six—and decided to stay up since yesterday Jesus had said they’d come earlier next time to beat the midday sun and also because the rainy season is coming on fast this year and they need to finish painting the murals around the outside of my studio within the week. I thought I’d get my blog written, the animals fed and maybe make them a special breakfast instead of the usual cookies or cake or chocolates that I serve with their morning coffee. (I make Jesus and Eduardo, not the animals, morning coffee with sweet treats. Ha! Thanks to Dolly and Irene for setting me straight on my faux pas.) So, all my tasks finished, I brewed a pot of coffee and started preparations for molletes–one way to use all those beans I cooked earlier this week that seem not to be vanishing at a rapid-enough rate in spite of the fact I’ve had them for every meal since. So, I located the beans in the fridge, sliced a bolillo (small fresh bread loaf) buttered one side of each of the pieces of bread and lay half of the pieces butter-side down on the grill, then layered manchego cheese, beans and manchego cheese before topping them each off with another slice of bolillo, butter side up. When they got here, I would grill both sides for an extra little treat. Half molette, half grilled cheese sandwich, it would be an Americanized version of a Mexican favorite.
Putting the grill on the unlit stovetop, I covered the molletes with a cloth, took my meds, instructed Echo to set my timer for a half hour when I would take the rest of my meds and went to check on my blog. Hmm. 9:15. It seemed as though if they were coming early, they should have been here by now, as their usual time of arrival was 10. It was then that I thought to look not only at the time but the day of the week. Sunday!!!
A full pot of brewed coffee and a grill full of potential molletes–and I a person who had done a smoothie for breakfast for over 30 years and who had to give up coffee 24 years ago! I guess there is always a valid excuse for breaking routine, so in an hour, after I’ve waited to take my second round of meds and waited the prescribed half hour, I will be dining on molletes and real coffee. I’ll have my smoothie for dinner and drink extra water to ward off the bad leg and arm cramps I get when I drink caffeine. The world will not end if I break a few of my own rules.
Click on photos to enlarge and read captions.
I ran a sharp knife around the side of the mug, so I actually didn’t have too much trouble getting my microwave muffin out of its mug, although the bottom 1/4 inch stuck and had to be removed with a spoon. The next time, I’ll oil the bottom of the cup a bit. The muffin isn’t bad and actually isn’t that sweet. I think a lot of the powdered sugar fizzed off onto the bottom of the oven during those initial 12 minutes of time spent in the oven. Once I put them in the microwave, they rose fine, although the mugfin is a bit heavy.
If you don’t know what in the heck I’m talking about, go HERE for an explanation.
I then decided to take a slice of the mugfin and add some of the bran concoction I made last night. It was very sweet and I think I prefer the muffin just by itself. I think the bran/banana/sugar concoction would be good on a blander white poundcake or shortbread cookie–or perhaps toast.
Okay.. I promise. No more banana bread/mugfin posts.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 