Jicama, More Sprouts, Purple Onions
I'm in Utah for a few days, and I'm no good at telling people I'm coming (especially because I thought for awhile I was going to Cali for the week to help with my sister's new baby.), so here I am.
Staying at my parents' house used to frustrate me, food-wise. They eat so dang healthy that it seemed like there was nothing to eat. I confess to making more dinner/lunch plans than strictly necessary just because potatoes and broccoli and a big green salad seemed like such a dud dinner. I was on vacation!
This time? Their healthy food IS the vacation. I'm in a swoon. It feels like I'm staying in one of these vegan resorts that are cropping up--where you stay there and they make you gourmet vegan meals. Every morning when I wake up there is a gorgeous grain staying warm in their rice cooker. I have it with some barley malt powder, my mom's mix of ground nuts and seeds, a splash of soy milk, and a few juicy clementines on the side. For lunch I have some of their homegrown sprouts and sprouted garbanzos on a whole wheat tortilla with beans and brown rice and lots of yummy costco salsa. Last night for dinner we had killer avocado sandwiches with grated beets, carrots, and jicama, more sprouts, purple onions, and little spicy crunchy sesame things on the side.
After nearly two months of trying to figure out this vegan whole foods thing, stressing about what to buy and eat, craving cookies and cheesy quesadillas, it's bliss to have the veggies already in the fridge and someone else thinking up simple, lovely meals.
Combine that with all the baby-holding I've done, the conversations with my siblings and their elegant funny children, the spring blossoms, the incredible view of the mountains from my parents' neighborhood, the greening valley stretching out below, and the run I'm about the take on the trail down the street, and I'm thinking I should have insisted on a longer trip.
Only glitch is that Sam had to teach this week, and nothing can be truly perfect unless he's around. I miss him like I'd miss my left foot, had I left that in Boston. Funny how when you leave, you realize--more than ever--that someone has become absolutely essential.
Staying at my parents' house used to frustrate me, food-wise. They eat so dang healthy that it seemed like there was nothing to eat. I confess to making more dinner/lunch plans than strictly necessary just because potatoes and broccoli and a big green salad seemed like such a dud dinner. I was on vacation!
This time? Their healthy food IS the vacation. I'm in a swoon. It feels like I'm staying in one of these vegan resorts that are cropping up--where you stay there and they make you gourmet vegan meals. Every morning when I wake up there is a gorgeous grain staying warm in their rice cooker. I have it with some barley malt powder, my mom's mix of ground nuts and seeds, a splash of soy milk, and a few juicy clementines on the side. For lunch I have some of their homegrown sprouts and sprouted garbanzos on a whole wheat tortilla with beans and brown rice and lots of yummy costco salsa. Last night for dinner we had killer avocado sandwiches with grated beets, carrots, and jicama, more sprouts, purple onions, and little spicy crunchy sesame things on the side.
After nearly two months of trying to figure out this vegan whole foods thing, stressing about what to buy and eat, craving cookies and cheesy quesadillas, it's bliss to have the veggies already in the fridge and someone else thinking up simple, lovely meals.
Combine that with all the baby-holding I've done, the conversations with my siblings and their elegant funny children, the spring blossoms, the incredible view of the mountains from my parents' neighborhood, the greening valley stretching out below, and the run I'm about the take on the trail down the street, and I'm thinking I should have insisted on a longer trip.
Only glitch is that Sam had to teach this week, and nothing can be truly perfect unless he's around. I miss him like I'd miss my left foot, had I left that in Boston. Funny how when you leave, you realize--more than ever--that someone has become absolutely essential.
Comments
I'm with you on the missing-the-husband-thing. Not fun, not fun at all. It sucks.