Why does food make us feel better? And why am I asking this question on my kid’s birthday? Hint – they’re totally unrelated.
So, today was certainly magic because the youngest turned ocho today. But it was also set to be magic for a very different, very middle-aged-man-excitement reason. We bought a new fridge and dishwasher to be delivered and installed today. Yes – this is what life has become. New appliances have me as excited as a kid learning they’re taking their first trip to Disney. Sigh …
Step 1 – refrigerator guys come to deliver and install. The fridge won’t fit. Cannot get it into the house without tunnelling in from underneath or ripping doors from hinges. We have it hanging out on the porch until we can remove an entire door frame and get it inside.
Step 2 – dishwasher dude rolls in and tells me that our plumbing isn’t in the right place and he won’t be able to install. He described the issue in very precise detail, and I didn’t understand a word that he said. Reminds me of this Brian Regan bit about Monster Trucks …
And so we have a plumber on the way to fix issue two. And a demo crew on the way to fix issue 1. (Shameless plug. If you need any plumbing work done in Atlanta, call Panacea. Seriously – they’re the best on the planet.) All of that brings us to the point of the title … comfort food. I was disappointed that we couldn’t get our new toys installed today. Normally, I would head straight to the pantry for a bucket of Cheesy Poofs as a way to salve the wound. But not today. Inner Me told me to Just Say No. The allure of garbage food seems to intensify when life turns south. It’s in times like these that we should not compound a bad outcome with a bad decision. Then you only feel worse … and then head for more comfort food … the cycle continues.
- Breakfast: Fiber One called me and said that they missed me. I hopped back on the bandwagon.
- Lunch: Leftover veggie lasagna. Doing pretty well so far. All in preparation for …
- Dinner: The birthday kid chose the local Italian joint for dinner. Salad and bread drenched in buckets of butter and garlic. DELICIOUS!! And I tried to avoid the bread. I mean, when you order mussels, and they’re in that delicious broth … a man has limitations.
Moretti La Rossa is the choice. Super malty, but not too heavy. It was a nice foil to the hearty and tangy mussels with broth. It worked so well, that I had to have a second one.