Giving up the kitchen reigns.

I can't do everything. There, I said it. I understand it. I accept it. But you know what? I don't want to give up anything either. It's been a hard go of it. I had to bust my butt to finish my thesis ahead of my previous schedule, which I succeeded at. During thesis madness, of course, there was no time for anything. There was work and there was thesis. Sometimes, I saw the light of day. You know, walking from my car to a building or from a building to my car.

Things have calmed a bit, though I feel like I need to be constantly active as I wait for my body's anxiety-state to return to equilibrium. I've been knitting. I've been writing and reading. I've been devastated that PBS replaced my knitting show on wednesdays and sundays with some quilting show. I've been working a lot and making money, which is good, though I don't have a lot of time to spend it, which is good too I suppose. But I miss grocery shopping with my man on tuesdays (which was usually my day off from classes during pre-thesis-hours MFA) and I miss practicing my guitar every day. I miss making food in my kitchen on a frequent basis.

In the time since my last food blog, I have made the following meals:
1. A random chinese stir fry with carrots, broccoli, the tofu my man had already baked, the rice my man had already cooked, and water chestnuts.

2. Spaghetti and meatballs with homemade sauce and frozen meatless meatballs
3... no that's about it.

Meawhile, the man has taken over the kitchen duties. This is no small feat for a carnivore to do when there is a vegetarian in the household, but he's done a pretty stellar job. Last night, for example, he made Moussaka:

Apparently the top there isn't cheese but a mix of egg and yogurt. It was even tasty reheated for lunch this afternoon.

Today, it was the boy's picking night. He picked pizza. By the time I got home, my man had already made the dough (using my favorite recipe and the whole white wheat flour). Usually I hate making the dough, but now that I don't have time to, I miss it. He forgot to buy the toppings, though, so I opted to walk down to the corner grocery town (the pluses of city life are few but this is one of them). It was late spring weather when spring has only just started. The sun was shining, the magnolia trees were in bloom, and no random street hustler tried to sell me anything or beg me for money the entire walk, there and back.

While at the store, I went a little overboard. I picked up the carrots, tomato, and pepper that I came for, but spring has sprung in the supermarket too. The strawberries looked perfect. The zucchini is back in season and looking like warm-weather zucchini instead of that wrinkley way it looks when they sell it in the winter. The portobella mushroom caps were on sale. And because I was getting strawberries, I figured, what the hey? I picked up some shortcake and heavy whipping cream. Sure, I didn't have time to bake shortcake fresh, but the little shells worked out fine. Instead, I put a little energy (and not too much extra time) into making fresh whipped cream.

To make whipped cream:
In a large bowl, whip heavy cream until stiff peaks form. Add a bit of vanilla to taste and about a teaspoon of powdered sugar for every 1/2 cup, more if you want it sugary.

The best shortcake is the first shortcake of the season. 

It's not much, but I made something in that kitchen. It's a start.