I cheated

I savored every moment. Every time my mouth touched a delectable morsel, I moaned a little, even if inwardly. That meat melting on my tongue. The tangy flavor that changed into salt and cream. And it felt so good. Well, it made me feel better, any way, as I had no time and I’m tired.

Don’t worry. No, I’m not cheating on my husband or any tests I need to take. I’m cheating on my food making. Face it, we’ve all done it and needed to a time or two. Cereal for dinner? Sure, kids! Why not? Ordering out? Not so fast, bucko. When you have allergies, it becomes a pain in the ass to explain to the person taking your order every time what can and cannot be in your food. Take out is worse because you have a stranger every time. Where we are, it’s worse, because I speak very little, or skōshi, Japanese and lots of Okinawans don’t speak English.

“I don’t understand.”

Today was a long day and I didn’t feel like going out for a big ole plate of translation confusion and possibly gluten but I also didn’t feel like cooking. I was sore from a 4 mile hike up and back down Mt. Ishikawa in the rain and then kickball league today. I’ve been cooking great meals all week from scratch and had really planned on a great one tonight. Nope. ALL the Nope.

What was in the fridge? Leftovers, dairy free cheese, and a GF pizza round? Huzzah! Dudes, we’re having pizza. Make as you see fit and fend for yourselves. Sometimes, you really don’t want to make all the stuff from scratch because you’re a busy person with responsibilities and feeding yourself shouldn’t be so hard. But with allergies, eating suddenly becomes the most important part of your life. One wrong step and you’re either praying loudly to the porcelain bathroom gods or taking a trip to Epi-pen Land.

Military commissary doesn’t carry Udi’s so I smuggled this over on my last trip to the states. Good for 6 months frozen? YAY!

I keep track of the meals we make to keep it new, and even my husband is no slouch in the kitchen. Last night, while I made a simple salad, he whipped up some grilled steaks, chicken and wine-soaked mushrooms. Since there’s just two of us in the house right now, of course there were leftovers.

My handwriting could use some tweaking.

Oh, there was seared pork belly from the other night and grilled leeks? Throw that shit on there too. Leftover goat cheese and homemade chimichurri from Friday night? Hell yeah! A couple of cherry tomatoes, a drizzle of olive oil and garlic salt, and I had the makings of the best, most savory Meatasaurus Rex pizza you ever wrapped your lips around. Wait. You didn’t; but I DID. Mwuahahahahaha!

Yeah, yeah. I ate the WHOLE thing. Don’t be Judgey McJudgerson. I took pics for you to enjoy too, like a good little blogger, and I’ve been all kinds of athletic this weekend. It was damn good pizza, only 9 inches round, and as I said before, Mama likes to eat. So hush yo mouf. Better yet, have some wine. We can forget all our troubles with the world of food. You know you’ve cheated too, and sometimes it’s best to forget we aren’t always good.



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