So, I'm embarking on one of those foolish adventures that begin with trying to diet and give up drinking during the work week.
It's not the first time I've tried this. The last time I attempted this I think I lasted from about the beginning of the week of that post right up until February vacation, whereupon I was knocked squarely off the work week wagon by, well, vacation.
The reasons remain the same. If I can put away a pound's worth of calories with my alcohol intake, then that is the most logical place to start cutting calories out of my diet. My morning classes are probably confused that I don't make them start the day sitting in the dark with the shades down.
And, I miss my feet.
But, dieting always just makes me obsess about food. Today I was watching The Essence of Emeril. Tivo apparently sensed weakness in me because of lack of food (and lack of turning off "Tivo Suggestions") and inflicted Emeril on me. He was making sweetbreads:
Sweetbread is the name of a dish made of the thymus (neck/throat/gullet sweetbread) or the pancreas (belly/stomach/heart sweetbread) or genitalia of an animal younger than one year old. These animals are usually piglets or calves. However, llamas may also be preferred.
And it looked good. I really wanted to eat it. Immediately. Here's the recipe.
Now, the fact of the matter is: I've had sweetbreads before. At a certain restaurant that won't let me and Mr. Scoop back in due to drunken table climbing and vague incoherent threats involving demands for little cakes. They were good. But, I've never had the desire to go out and get some for myself to prepare at home. However, at this moment I would have stabbed a guy to get some. Stabbed him and cut out his own damn sweetbreads.
So, I did the logical thing and turned off the tv. And made steamed broccoli.
Pray for me.
T minus 45 hours to Booze O' Clock. And, maybe, nachos.
Technorati Tags: Food , Diet , Emeril ,Sweetbreads , Drinking , Life , Humor