Because I think I almost just did, but I caught myself just in time.
I was mulling over what to make for dinner tonight, and was thinking about a pasta-and-lentil dish based on a classic Neapolitan dish called pasta e lenticchie. It’s too difficult to translate the real name from the Italian, so let’s just stick with pasta-and-lentils.
Anyway, I was pondering how, exactly, I wanted to do it – it’s such an old dish so there’s not really one specific way, unless you learned in from your nonna in which case THAT IS THE ONLY WAY. I never did, although my family was originally from the Naples region before heading south to Puglia; probably because when I was little, I hated lentils so much that I would self-induce the gag reflex. So I have total freedom to come up with my own take on pasta e lenticchie.
Too bad it’s been 5 or 6 days since we increased the dosage of my new med, which means a high-pressure system of soul-crushing anxiety is blowing though with a 90% chance of batshit insane and some scattered showers of please lord kill me now, lasting for the next 3 or 4 days.
Make that 95%. Although we all know that weathermen are filthy liars and/or radical communists, so hopefully things will calm down.
Making and documenting dinner was thus low on the totem pole when I got home tonight. There was only one thing I could picture myself eating, and it was an Ibby’s combo platter: lamb shawarma, falafel, baba ganoush and hummus. So I was all like, perfect! I’ll get some Ibby’s, write a little review, low stress, medicate myself and head off to bed. And it was good, just what I wanted, and I settled onto the couch with what’s left of the 2001 Toshiba laptop to throw a few words together.
I mean, I have been writing this blog for what, 13 months now? So you can hardly expect me to remember every little thing I’ve written about or all 6 of the restaurants I’ve reviewed. What am I, a robot?*
(Aside: Why do I love the Transporter so? Actually, I know why. It’s because looking at Jason Statham is almost as effective at relieving tension as 10 milligrams of Valium washed down with a few fingers of good scotch .** Also because he seems so polite: he’s always wearing a nice suit and he never shoots anyone, just beats them up in fascinating new ways.)
So Congrats! You’ve read a meaningless post about nothing!
To make it up to you, I’m about to go write out the recipe for the blue cheese croissants.
**I don’t actually do this, because I think scotch is gross. I use vodka, preferably Belvedere.