Shredded Apple. . . or not. . . .

After all this ado about breakfast, I decided to try something I had been wondering about for a while: an apple smoothie.

This was about five minutes ago. I recall it vividly.

I was really excited. I peeled the apple and cut it up with three different knives. I put it in the blender and excitedly flipped the switch.

Mysteriously, nothing much happened. I remembered an earlier blenderizing experience where a bit of liquid had been the trick. So I added some orange juice.

After a series of me flipping the switch, nothing happening, and scraping down the sides, I realized something:

I was making applesauce.

I added some lemon juice and cinnamon and a touch of sugar and poured it into a bowl. I have to eat it now. It's not delicious, but it's pretty good.

What I really want is shredded apple. When inspiration next strikes, I am shredding an apple for all its worth and seeing if it is drinkable.

It must be interesting to not have the constant urge to make yummy breakfasts.

Oatmeal, REVISITED

I like the word revisited. It seems like the kind of word one would find in lowercase cursive on a vintage tag in Anthropologie that some color blogger (oh, how I wish) would incorporate into some sort of green, orange, and navy color scheme that would probably include suitcases and trunks and inevitable a meadow.

I digress.

I must confess that I have been lazy about my oatmeal. School started, and even though I wake up an hour and a half before I have to, I still have problems being on time. Well, not exactly that--I always leave on time. Let's say time management, shall we? I have had such problems taking dreaded showers in a hopefully short amount of time that the most I think about my oatmeal is Bleah, this is kind of gross and weird-tasting. And then I should put that thought out of my head because of a lack of options.

Then I got a magazine in the mail (hurrah) and it had this whole article on snacks which I quite enjoyed. Cottage cheese and apricots, crystallized pineapple and pistachios, yogurt with pear or apple slices, pita bread and hummus. . . and oatmeal with maple syrup. So of course I simply had to try it.

Usually I have oatmeal with fruit, depending on what's in season--right now I'm still coasting on blueberries. I used to have raisins, but we don't have some currently and sometimes I do not like them. I also have been cruising with my year-old vanilla sugar, which I made.

Since maple syrup costs $22 I opted, as I usually do, for my mother's pseudo-syrup which is still good. And I must tell you that oatmeal and syrup is delicious. I highly recommend it.

Fruit fruit fruit. I like fruit. It is yummy. Nom nom nom.

I'm afraid I'm rather hungry. I cannot wait until green grape season so I can freeze them! }:D
 

I had oatmeal for breakfast.

I DID have oatmeal for breakfast. Because it is the best breakfast you can have, according to three magazines and the internet. When I have oatmeal, I get lots of nutrition and fiber while getting very little fat. When I add fruit, which provides Vitamin C, I receive short-term energy.

So I can walk away from my breakfast feeling light and happy.

Except that it's rather depressing to eat oatmeal. I have to force myself to eat it, through a combination of willpower, lots of peaches, and sheer force. Because as nutritious as it is, oatmeal is not a big happiness-inducer. I like mocha-chips muffins much better and they are probably not as nutritious.

I am going to issue a challenge for myself (and y'all too, if you feel so inclined).

I am going to see how many --GAH! I cannot finish my sentence because my father is reading a newspaper article aloud to my brother about animals escaping from the Central Park Zoo.

*closes eyes, makes that hand motion people do when they're meditating (ya know, when they put the tips of their fingers together), breathes* Okay. I want to see how many different way I can make oatmeal so that it's still healthy AND exciting.

I'm going to go look for some cheese.

I struggle with menial activities.....

Last night, it being half-past our accustomed dinner hour, my little sister and I decided to make our customary Sunday night dinner: grilled cheese sandwiches, popcorn, and smoothie.

The popcorn was easy enough (even though I wasn't expecting the loud noise from the popping machine and jumped backwards, therefore banging my back painfully into the oven door handle) and the butter-melting was not alarming at all. (Not like melting marshmallows.) The smoothie was very, very good.

But the grilled cheese...........

I can make fried chicken. I can make loads and loads of desserts. I can make French toast with stale biscuits at six in the morning, but I cannot make grilled cheese sandwiches.

First I toasted the bread without cheese and burned it. Then I covered the surface of the bread with thin cheese slices. Then the cheese burned. Then I put more cheese on top of the burned pieces. Then the bread broke in half. Then the bread burned more. Then you couldn't see the cheese.

Then I was sick of the sandwich and sent it to its doom via slapping it on a plate and thrusting it into my siblings' faces.

They ate them.