I'm not a food blogger by any means, as evidenced by how I didn't bother to wipe the lip of the dish clean before snapping this picture. But I do want to share my culinary aha moment with you, fresh from several hours ago, because it was that good and it might just make you get up and go buy apples right now. I'm about to do that.
What will you eat for your last meal of 2017?
Try applesauce. Hear me out.
I had some apples rotting in the fridge. They arrived to me in various ways over the holidays-- some were hand-me-downs, some were supposed to be part of a pie that never happened, whatever. By a strange series of events, my crisper had become a convalescent home for aged apples and none of the other vegetables wanted to hang out in there with Granny Smith and her dimpled dowager cronies. Also there was no room.
So I made applesauce. And it is really honestly very very good. And easy. After the first bite I had a brief vision of opening an applesauce food truck because this stuff is addictive and it would sell. I did not expect it to be this delicious. If you have never made applesauce, consider this:
1. Homemade applesauce is heavenly and totally worth it.
2. Try cardamom. It's a magical spice, and I'm not just saying that because I have Middle Eastern blood.
3. Do not underestimate the importance of having skin in this game. Leave the skin on the apples. Put the peeler down.
4. If you have an Instant Pot, it will double as an aromatherapy diffuser. Regular pot on the stove works too.
5. You will Google how long it will keep in the fridge, and then you will eat it all. This is a normal part of the process. You might also blog about it. This is abnormal but your friends will probably forgive you.
6. Cinnamon is the original crazy straw.
This is what I did, but Google will readily show you thrilling variations including brown sugar, butter, and other spices. They are probably delicious.
7 mutt orphan apples, unknown varieties
1/2 cup water
1/2 a lemon, squeezed
pinch of salt
1 cinnamon stick
1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom
maple syrup, poured generously over the apples as if they were pancakes
Today I returned to work after many days out sick. I was rusty this morning, stumbling through my standard morning routine, and also trying to remember all the tinctures, potions, and assistive devices I wanted to bring with me:
Fuzzy scarf, fuzzy boots- check
Raw garlic- check
Apple cider vinegar- check
Grapefruit seed extract- check
Good tea- check
Backup tea- check
Food rations for a week in case I get stranded in a bitter 69 degree San Diego chillaxizzard
I'm wearing a sweater over a sweatshirt over another sweatshirt (which is actually the cute one and it's a shame I had to cover it up but that's the only way the hoods fit together), over a shirt. I'm basically a human turducken, the belle of the Awkward Ball. I'll be in the corner at work, dancing with myself.
Anyway, I eventually assembled my luggage at the front door, slid a hand through my bedhead- I mean beachy waves, and felt very proud of myself. Look out, world! I'm ready for work!
One problem: NO PANTS.
A dating app where you can locate single mall Santas in your area.
My name is Nasreen. I write micro essays, one-liners, and other small things. Most of them were funny at some point, at least to me.