Lately I've been craving cream of wheat. Serious cream of wheat. Like, white cream of wheat made with milk with a river of melted butter running through it and sugar on top. A deep river of butter. But here's the thing: If I made that bowl of cream of wheat, I'd be hungry five minutes later, and I'd be uncomfortable all day. All that lactose if you know what I mean. So I don't make it. Then tonight, for dinner, I made quinoa, corn and spinach soup from Deborah Madison's Vegetable Soup book. Mostly I made it because I found a thing of quinoa I bought months ago, and because I'd just gotten two ears of corn at Whole Foods even though it's December. (My son loves it.) And you know what? It had a grainy consistency that almost totally scratched by Cream of Wheat itch. I say almost because there was no butter. But I also made chocolate shortbread today, so that'll have to take care of the butter part.
Good thing I re-started my Couch-to-5K training. I'd stopped for a sore knee and fully recovered, I'm starting again. Truly, this is the heart of Saturday night.