I’ve noticed that on my days off I commit myself to cleaning the dishes, scrubbing the tub, and going on a cooking frenzy. Today my cooking was a little bit of this, and little bit of that, and a whole lot of prayer.
A few weeks ago my car decided to throw yet another hissy fit and subsequently went through multiple repairs. The whole ordeal cost my dad nearly two thousand dollars, and my bank account is, well, pretty dismal. I started my new job yesterday (can I just say how luxurious all the fabrics are!) but I won’t be getting paid for a few weeks. Essentially, I should only ask for money from my parents when I’ve literally eaten my last tomato and bag of frozen vegetables. Eee gad! After fishing through the cupboard I keep all the dry and canned goods, I decided rice and beans was exactly what the your-a-super-broke-college-student doctor would prescribe.
I’m a big planner when it comes to cooking. Every week before I go out I meticulously plot out a shopping list that will carry me through the week. I’ve been known to think of my toes, but that generally only applies to dessert-esque munchies. Dinner ad-libbing leaves me feeling a little frazzled. Thankfully, rice and beans allows for a certain amount personal flair, pizzazz, and culinary showboating. I threw in some corn, a jalapeño, onions, and canned tomatoes, mixed in what I would consider the most en point pot of rice I’ve ever made, and stirred away. Sweet bliss. I now have a humble, though delicious, pot of food that is not only healthy and colorful, but it was insanely cheap and will last me a few days. I’m sure I’ll grow tired of eating it, but at least I have something to eat, which is a lot more than most.
After giving myself a pat on the back, I decided I should at least indulge in my sweet tooth, because she is such a needy little you-know-what. Erring on the side of health, I cracked upon the forgotten can of coconut milk that had been hiding behind the tomatoes. Again, sweet bliss. Into the food processor went the coconut milk, a good amount of frozen raspberries, a dash of cinnamon, and a tiny capful of vanilla extract. Whirr, went the blades; plop, plop, plop, went the pink gobs on their way into the ice cube trays. The kabob sticks, unfortunately, were much stronger than expected, and wouldn’t yield under any of the knives. Instead of pops I ended up with little cubes that I have to hold in my fingers and lick away at; what a horrid life, right? Nevertheless, they are quite delicious, and I’ve always been a fan of finger foods.
Sometimes I wish I could just live in a giant kitchen, because I love that room oh so very much. Living rooms and bedrooms are terribly overrated!
Peel Away ❤