OK, even I am rolling my eyes at the title of this recipe. Quinoa fried rice with tofu – can we get any more hippity dippity healthy food blogger over here?
I’m sorry, but I’m that girl. The one who loves tofu and is using a Peruvian grain/seed to make an Americanized, pan-Asian dish.
Sue me. It’s delicious.
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Before the wedding, I developed a zucchini recipe for the blog… then ran out of time to post it. I thought about sharing it this week, but you know what? I’m just not feelin’ it. The zucchini ship has sailed. And although I hate to say it, I have finally moved on to fall foods. I almost can’t believe it, because I feel like every year I’m even sadder to see summer go. I think it has to do with the beautiful Utah weather. Other bloggers start with the pumpkin recipes when it’s still 80 degrees here, and I’m all noooooooo. But now that it’s October and I actually have to wear a jacket when I leave the house in the morning, we can talk about warm, comforting food.
But maybe I will sneak a zucchini in sometime soon, just for kicks.
Not that this is a fall dish per se, but to me, risotto is a very wintery food. I mean, am I going to stand at the stove stirring for ages in the summer? Nein danke. Only when it starts to get dark and chilly can I commit to risotto.
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Maybe I’m being too sensitive, but I feel repeatedly insulted by my dry cleaner.
It’s not just the prices, although those are absurd. It’s only recently that I started buying clothes (read: silk blouses) that I can’t just throw in my trusty Dryel bag to “dry clean,” and it’s hard to stomach more than $10 to clean a piece of clothing I already paid too much for.
But no, it’s the tags they attach to my clothing that get under my skin.
“It is our professional opinion that this stain cannot be removed.” That was attached to one of my blouses a few weeks ago, inducing immediate panic. I searched it high and low for a stain – I hadn’t known it had one! – and eventually came to the conclusion that they meant it had some underarm discoloration. Translation: It is our professional opinion that you sweat an ungodly amount. Well, sorry!
I wore that blouse on a Monday, and spilled coffee down my front, first thing. I wish I were kidding.
Most recently it was an Anthropologie sweater that I decided was worth dry cleaning because I was afraid I’d ruin it any way I attempted to clean it. It’s super delicate – a really loose weave, almost like a lace sweater, if that makes any sense – and I can barely put it on over my earrings without it catching. But when I picked it up from the dry cleaner it had a big bold tag that said “ATTENTION: DO NOT DRY CLEAN.” Might as well have said “ATTENTION: LEARN TO READ” because when I checked the tag, sure enough, “do not dry clean.”
I guess that one’s my fault. But the chances of that “hand wash cold” foolishness happening? Roughly 0%. No, I take that back. Exactly 0%.
We’ll see what the dry cleaner has in store for me next time. Do they notice if I stretch stuff out?
In any case, may this not be the kind of Monday that starts with an insult and a coffee stain on your shirt. May this be the kind of Monday where you make a salad dressing out of jam!
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This recipe is my way of pretending I’m still on the Vineyard. Every smoky, creamy bite brings me back to vacation… delicious, delicious vacation!
Actually, this recipe is my way of mashing up vacation and real life. A creamy fish pate is definitely an island treat, but the one we had on the Vineyard is made with smoked bluefish. Well, in Utah, there is nary a bluefish to be found, never mind smoked. Trout, however, we have in abundance, and that’s how it made its way into this pate.
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The final wedding countdown is on! 12 days, you guys. TWELVE DAYS.
Nate and I were in Atlanta this weekend at our friends Sara and Anthony’s wedding. Sara and I got engaged right around the same time, and were checking with each other as we planned our weddings to make sure we picked different dates. So all year, I’ve known that we were flying to Atlanta for their wedding, and then ours would be just around the corner. Being there this weekend made our wedding seem SO REAL!
Not to mention the fact that they had the most beautiful wedding ever. It was at her parents’ house (an old horse farm), very Southern rustic, very DIY. It was absolutely perfect, and I can only hope I’ll look half as overjoyed as I walk down the aisle as my lovely friend did! Except I know I’ll look terrified instead. I remember distinctly from my sister’s wedding the feeling of not being able to control my facial muscles as I walked down the aisle because I was so nervous. The chance of that happening at my own wedding is preeeetty much 100%. I will be clinging to my dad for dear life!
I was crossing my fingers that I’d be going through a quiet spell at work in the weeks leading up to the wedding, to give me a little spare time to take care of last-minute wedding details. Instead, pretty much the opposite is true. Isn’t that always the way things work? Everyone is being super understanding, and I’m trying to stay focused and not take advantage too much. Because of that, easy salads like this are going to be our best friends over the next week or so!
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