As a public school child in the 70’s, my Valentine’s Day often ended in tears. I remember digging into my optimistically large brown paper bag in first grade to find only three envelopes, even though my mother had insisted I fill out mass-produced cards for every child in my class. “No one likes me!” I […]
Last week, for the first time in a very, very long time, the majority of my waking hours were spent at work. In addition to being at my new home away from home for the length of the day (plus early arrival and late departure), I also returned every evening. I dashed home (on my xtracycle, thank you very much), threw together a very rudimentary dinner, loaded the dishwasher and zipped back to school. At least I live right around the corner. And thankfully, my husband was able to be home every night to cover bedtime.
After a week of spaghetti, mac and cheese, grilled chicken (also, thanks to my husband) and hot dogs, I guess I was eager to cook, because I spent most of a gloriously sunny Sunday making blueberry muffins, homemade bread, apple crisp from our own apple tree, and homemade vanilla ice-cream and a gorgeous tossed salad with avocado, pistachios and cukes from the garden, for a compensatory dinner. (Granted the main course was a Trader Joe’s spinach pie. It was vacation, after all.) And I though, hey, I may need to rely on a lot of shortcuts during the week, and shabbat is shabbat, but….at least there’s Sunday.
Some relief until I looked at the calendar and realized that every Sunday after next week is either Yom Tov or Erev Yom Tov for four consecutive weeks. But come cheshvan, Sundays will be the day we can hunker down in the kitchen and make some real food. Stay tuned for recipes. And pictures, if I ever find my camera.