(Perforated Lines--you can't resist 'em)

(bag 'o potato)
(left arrow) Wednesday, January 24, 2001 (right arrow)

 

12:54 a.m. Get it? Tote 'm home? I did. How could I not? I originally had a nice bag of frou-frou small red potatoes in my cart when I came upon a huge stack of 20-pound bags of brown potatoes in this fetching bag.

Really love the bag -- there's a totem pole on it, obviously. Also obviously, we finally went to the market after about five weeks of abstinence. The fridge was all sparkly clean and the new food looks right at home on the shelves, back where it all should be.

We had a rotisserie chicken, soda, tangerine juice, and corn chips for dinner. All the sorts of things we'd "run out of" long ago, and it was fun. I also bought those deadly Pepperidge Farm Spritzer cookies again, but that problem will be over in a few more hours.

Food. The love affair. The on-again/off-again endless runaround. We went to the big-food Smart and Final near us and I stocked up on linguine and cannola oil and mushrooms. This store has an entire professional restaurant section and I bought a new frying pan. Sauté pan, if you want to be fancy.

I've decided that I'd like to continue to cook for a little while longer. It brings such joy to the world around me, starting with Igor, of course. If I have to be round and lumpy like that bag of potatoes, so be it. Not really. Ok, maybe. Or not. Conflicted? You betcha.

What's even worse is the radio program I just finished listening to. The man selling books tonight claims that the high-starch diet is the doom of all of us. He says that every single human being is allergic to wheat in some form or another. Too bad nobody told the Italians about this. Or the Chinese.

He's not only a vegan, but a raw foodist and a fruitarian. He's giving a lecture in Santa Monica on Friday night at a raw-food feast. Otherwise known as a produce display?

I think I will be a bargian. If it's on sale, I eat it. Or an eclectian. Put it in front of me and I thank you for it ... and then I eat it. Or a vagarian. I eat what I'm in the mood for.

It's really amazing how differently different people feed themselves. Apples and oranges.

 

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