MissMeliss: Escribition

If there were a diet pill that would change my blood chemistry so that mosquitoes would stop treating me like prime snacking material, I’d totally take it.

As I write this, I’m pleasantly cool, despite the fact that the temperature was 104 at 5 PM, and still reads around 88. About an hour ago, I left the air conditioned house and went outside where there was a warm breeze blowing. The light from the half moon was shining on the pool, and the wind was creating soft ripples. I was hot and cranky, and wanted not to be hot and cranky. We’d been out all day, came home overtired, and while we’d both napped from six to nine, Fuzzy was still (and is still) sound asleep.

Obviously, I’m awake.

The pool was beckoning, so I dashed back inside for a big fluffy beach towel, stripped off the cotton tank and pajama bottoms I was wearing, and stepped into the water, scaring a gecko that was sitting on the ledge of the planter along the back wall of the pool. (It did not fall in, thankfully.)

I didn’t swim laps, but I did grab a foam kickboard, and float around a little - I was trying not to get my hair wet because I hadn’t bothered with a swim bap - while Miss Cleo nosed around in the ivy for more small lizards to chase.

I didn’t stay in long, only 20 minutes, but it was enough to cool my skin, soothe my mood, and refresh my brain.

As I got out, and wrapped my towel around me, I felt the warmth of the pebble-textured deck beneath my bare feet, and realized there were no bugs buzzing close to me. It may be horribly hot here, but the lack of significant rain and relatively light humidity - especially for Texas in summer - means a dearth of mosquitoes.

I am not complaining, though I believe this may be why we don’t have any visible writing spiders in the back yard this year, and while I generally hate being able to see spiders, I miss those pretty, talented arachnids.

I am hungry, which makes sense since we ate ‘breakfast’ at 4 PM, and otherwise I’ve just had coffee drinks and bottled water.

Fuzzy took me to Zaguan for that meal, and I fell in love with the place. The food is fresh and real - I could taste the distinct flavor of every vegetable in my scrambled eggs, and the grilled plaintains were just the right level of sweetness. The mango-papaya smoothie I had (it came with my meal) was literally mango, papaya, and chilled water - no sorbet or fruit juice or sweetener. It was delightfully orange and really refreshing.

Since Zaguan is also a bakery, and I cannot resist a good pastry, I brought home two chocolate croissants for tomorrow’s breakfast (one for each of us), and a pair of guava-filled alfajores which are traditional Latin American cookies, though the use of guava is NOT traditional.

These have holes in the center a la Linzer tarts, and the guava puree poking up was healthy and flushed pink and somehow sexy to the point of being obscene, and right now I can’t think of anything better than to go brew a mug of tea and eat the cookies.

It’s weird but having a grill is like having a shiny new toy, and I’m suddenly inspired to cook again.

Sunday night, we had grilled top sirloin with steamed broccoli, and roasted potatoes. (The secret to roasting potatoes on the grill? Put some olive oil and garlic salt on a square of aluminum foil. Coat the outside of the potato (after stabbing it several times so it won’t explode), wrap the foil around it, and then let it sit on the grill for about 45 minutes before you put the meat on.)

Monday night, I made bratwurst, baked beans, and sliced tomatoes seasoned with a little bit of lemon and salt.

Yesterday I coated chicken breasts in a mixture of olive oil, kosher salt, lemon juice, and herbs de Provence, and let them come to room temperature while I roasted sweet potatoes on the grill, and tossed some sliced zucchini in a similar oil/herb/lemon mixture. Then we grilled it all.

As I write this, I’m eating a grilled steak salad (made a basic lettuce salad, poured over it the leftover tomatoes, and then warmed leftover steak and some mushrooms and put that over the cool veggies.) It’s a wonderful blend of tangy and smokey, cool and hot.

Tonight, I plan to make penne al pesto and slice the leftover chicken breast (they come in packages of three and there’s only two of us) into it. Tomorrow we’ll do something with hamburger or turkey, ditto Friday.

I’m only using really light seasoning on all this stuff - garlic, salt and pepper, mostly, but it all tastes so good, and it’s so satisfying, and while, yes, I did succumb to the lure of chocolate and make a batch of brownies last night, they were made from scratch, with half the sugar the recipe calls for, and zero trans-fats.

Stay tuned for more adventures in outdoor cookery, or share with me your favorite grill recipes.

…with apologies to Lewis Carroll. We noticed that a neighbor had an old grill on their sidewalk last Sunday, and as we passed it, Fuzzy teased, “You know how you keep saying you want a grill…”

I pointed out that since there was no sign saying otherwise that grill was probably out for trash. It looked much more than “gently used.” In fact the words, “natural disaster” sprang to mind.

The thing is, I do want a grill. We have one of those George Foreman counter-top things, but I want an outdoor grill, the kind with the propane tank and the froufrou grill cover, and the ceramic briquettes instead of real charcoal. I want to roast potatoes and grill salmon and steak all summer. I hate cooking inside when I don’t have to, and the Foreman thing’s okay, but there’s just something about actual FIRE that makes meat taste better.

Vegetables too, for that matter.

I woke up this morning to a pounding headache, one that had been threatening to arrive all day yesterday, but didn’t really come on in force until I tried to go to sleep last night, and the sound of Fuzzy grumbling in the bathroom. It seems that L, our new housekeeper, did such a great job of cleaning the bathroom vanities, that he can’t find anything.

(Mind you, he is afflicted with the inability to see any object that requires moving another object. I always thought this was limited to looking for items in the fridge, but it’s universal, apparently.)

Outside, while the temperature is mild, the wind is not, and it’s making a howling sound that the dogs are clearly disgruntled by. Poor sensitive chihuahua ears. Zorro’s been giving me his patented slitty-eyed look all morning. As if I can control the wind.

I found the perfect way to soothe my own grumpiness, however. I made oatmeal, laced it with honey, and mixed in half a container of fresh blueberries.

Mmm. Blueberries.

My head still hurts.
But I’ll survive.

Sometimes, no matter how bad for you it may be, no matter how much it makes you want to counteract it with seven miles of extra running and a handful of diet pills, you have to give in and eat comfort food.

Last night, post root canal, pizza was the most comforting thing I could think of. Fuzzy hadn’t managed to leave the house yesterday, so caught up was he in work, and I was in no condition to cook. At one point, while making the dog’s dinner, I think I spent five whole minutes contemplating the shiny metal of the knife I was using. It was pretty. (Vicodin haze.)

So we ordered pizza. Well, two, because leftovers are crucial, neither of us had eaten all day, and I generally freeze several slices for junk food emergencies. One was a stuffed crust pie. I’m not a fan of those. Too much cheese, and the crusts are never done enough for me.

We also ordered the “Rustico” pizza from Pizza Hut’s new “Naturals” line. Made on a multi-grain crust, with chicken sausage, fire-roasted red peppers, and slices of tomatos under the cheese, this was as close to a homemade pie as I’ve ever had from a commercial pizzeria. I liked it. It tasted like home.

Of course, this morning, I feel like I need to do penance in the form of a juice fast.
But whatever.

We were late getting on the road as both Fuzzy’s work and my work intruded upon our day off (granted, we allowed it to), and then, I was feeling too hormonal and blechy to want to do mini-golf or Dave & Busters, so we went to Dallas to the Purple Cow Diner for junk food, then to the mall where I bought earrings and an oil burner, and Fuzzy did not buy anything at the game store, and then to Fry’s, because how could we not make a pilgrimage to Geek Mecca?

We came home, and I napped for an hour, then spend three putting the web calendar php application on one of my not-often-used sites so that I could make a colleague happier. At least I hope it has that effect. I’m a list person, not a calendar person, and don’t generally have tasks that are around long enough to NEED to be calendared. But, whatever. It’s not very pretty, but seems to do the job.

By the time either of us realized we were hungry, it was after ten, so more junk food (but not a LOT or anything), and I must confess, I have an addiction to baked potatoes now. We watched I Am Legend while eating, which I’m sure will give me nightmares despite the hopeful ending, but it was good. Much less grim than Matheson’s original novel, at least.

I’d already written one of the articles I had due for tomorrow while Fuzzy was out fetching dinner. I just completed and sent the other one. I’ve gotten into the habit lately of writing late at night for the next day, which means I can sleep late with no guilt. Or not much.

Wednesday I go to the dentist. I don’t want to.
But it must be done.

On Sunday, driving through Cedar Hill under ominous clouds, I looked at a line of men in plaid pants and cute hats, their golf equipment arrayed behind them, all along the driving range, and thought, “How peaceful. Wonder what would happen if it rained.”

It did not rain on Sunday, and while it threatened to rain all day yesterday, no real precipitation occurred, but this morning the heavens let flow a deluge and it’s been windy and rainy all day.

It’s the kind of day that makes working from home absolutely wonderful, because in between writing and researching, I could soothe the dogs, who are frightened of thunder, and make soup and a turkey sandwich for lunch, which I ate sitting in my comfy sofa, while watching lightning arc across the sky.

This afternoon, I went through the South Beach quick meals cookbook and found a recipe that would use a bunch of odds and ends I had in the fridge, and we’re about to sit down to an episode of Angel on DVD and piping hot pesto chicken with steamed broccoli on the side.

I love Rainy Days.