Clearly the thing to do after nearly a month-long orgy of overindulgence is head for the local farmers’ market to buy some more food. Well, what else could I do? Chinese leftovers become unappetizing once the prawns turn.
The Geek and I headed south, finding the traffic in the U-district eerily light, much like Christmas-now-past. Perhaps a third of the usual vendors populated the University farmers’ market. I thought at first that all the people who had drunk themselves blind and caused a family scene that would nudge their own children along the path of alcohol-fueled holiday rages were now sleeping it off, dreaming of Monday and the return of safe and predictable routine. Then I realized the neighborhood had simply emptied out because the students were on winter break—no doubt home ducking their own families’ flying dishware.
Kale, parsnips, and carnival squashes filled my bag. TGeek prefers products to produce. He bought cheese, wine, and sausage. (As a side note, the pears purchased last week are now sliced and simmering in a pan of port. The divinity of poached pears could make you weep if you hadn’t already spent your allowance of sentimentality for the year.)
Clearly the thing to do after the children have received present after present, spread over weeks, thanks to their dual heritage is to take them to retail-land to spend some of their gift cards. Lulled into complacency by the zippy trip to the U-district, I headed for the Target, imagining a wide-open parking lot and sleepy, bored, teenaged employees.
Gridlocked, friends. Automobiles swarmed the area like locusts, eating the pavement, leaving only tar-stink and dust. After wading, I mean waiting, through the plague of traffic, I reached my destination, wishing I’d had a few plates to hurl at the rudest of my fellow drivers.
Tigger, on the prowl for some “skinny jeans,” headed to Plato’s Closet, the repository of teen togs conveniently located next to Target. Little Bit and I followed the big red bullseye in search of leggings and tights for the younger crowd.
Target apparently caters to a very young crowd. Their shelves and racks held many items sized 4-5 and 6X, a few in the 7-8 realm, and almost nothing in the 10-12 she requires. What we did find still didn’t fit—pants in her length were so wide around the waist I could’ve put both of our kittens in there with her. Pants with a smaller waist were too short. We did find a pair of bright blue “skinny” pants that had an elastic adjuster inside the waistband. I had to cinch it seven notches on each side to get it close to snug around her.
Happily, Tigger found the items she wanted on her own, checked out with her gift card, and joined us in Target, so I was spared any additional shopping aggravation. Thank you, Santa!
…Fast-forwarding through the trauma of getting home and the subsequent joy of sending TGeek to get take-out pho…
Little Bit playing Jingle Bell Rock on the (digital) piano. Tigger working through a Japanese lesson on the computer. TGeek reading on his Kindle (a replacement for the one that was jacked from his car last month). TR blogging. It’s an electric world, baby.
TR’s Parsnip Chips
Peel parsnips and slice into thin rounds or half-rounds, about 1/8 to 1/4 inch thick. Toss with olive oil and salt, maybe cumin if you are feeling adventurous, cayenne if you are feeling very adventurous. Lay out in a single layer on a tray and bake at 400 degrees for 15 minutes. Flip them all over and bake another 10 minutes, ’til they are browned and crisp-ish. Eat them right off the tray before your family shows up. They are too good to share.