I'm Only Sleeping

On Sunday I used this recipe to make gingersnaps. The end result bore a striking similarity to the New Best Recipe Molasses Spice Cookies, except they were a little puffier and had less bite (that would be the absence of black pepper). Certainly toothsome, but not what I was going for; maybe I'll try the NBR for crisp gingerbread next. I want something to dip in tea!

I hadn't planned to cook anything tonight, but I ended up throwing together Cream Biscuits to accompany some scrambled eggs. Incredibly easy recipe (again from The New Best Recipe, page 711-712), and only 15 minutes in the oven (long enough to set off our super-sensitive smoke alarm, despite the total absence of smoke).

Tonight, my roommate who ran a marathon (henceforth Marathon Girl, at least until she objects and forces me to come up with another nickname) and I worked our shift at the Park Slope Food Co-op. Lo and behold, what do I see not five minutes after walking in? A jar of chestnuts! Victory for the Forces of Democratic Freedom! I am making that butternut squash pumpkin chestnut soup again. Mmm.

Unfortunately, shortly after that, I was foolishly stocking cactus pears barehanded. A few minutes later my hands started stinging. (For others who are equally slow on the uptake: beware of any fruit that has the word "cactus" in its name. Most probably it has tiny needles protruding from its skin.) I spent the next several minutes in the bathroom, alternately running my hands under water and trying to pick out the invisible stickers.

Sad to say, this is not my first run-in with a plant in the cactus family: this is pretty much a repeat of one of my earliest memories. I went to a Montessori preschool, and one day I watched an older girl - I think her name was Amanda - poke her slender finger delicately between the spines of a small cactus plant in the classroom to touch the cactus skin itself. Thinking I could do the same, I tried it too, but of course, I only impaled my fingertip on one of the cactus spines. Rather than tell a teacher, I made several trips to the bathroom to run the finger under cold water. Was I shy? Yes. Afraid of getting in trouble for trying to touch the cactus in the first place? That too. Did I learn from the experience? Yes - stay the hell away from cacti. And twenty-one years later, a coda: stay away from cactus pears, too.

Later, after the cactus pear incident, when I was stocking tomatoes, I knelt on a grape. It was not the best of nights. But: I have biscuits, leftover spice cookies, two kinds of soup in the freezer and one in the fridge, and a new jar of chestnuts! Also, I got to make a joke using a Beatles song, when someone came to the bulk aisle to replace a bag of wheat germ. "Okay if I leave this here?" she asked. "Sure," I said. "We're only sweeping."

What I'm reading: Jonah Lehrer, How We Decide

What I'm listening to: The Weepies, Say I Am You; Jason Nichols