So, here is the outfit transgression. Why I thought it was OK to set foot outside wearing nothing but workout gear and a trenchcoat is beyond me. I looked like a flasher. A friendly flasher, one who might help a blind person cross the street, but a flasher nonetheless.
Last week got off to a bad start. I headed out of my apartment in an inappropriate outfit, and shortly thereafter pigged out on a big slab of quiche. Which I’m pretty sure was made from a mixture of heavy cream, egg yolks and cheese and baked in the oven with more cheese on top. Why does everyone point their finger at cake as the ultimate bad guy? They have clearly never encountered a quiche quite like this.
Fortunately, even after these early missteps, I was able to bounce back with some healthy eating. Family included. Let me clarify: I didn’t eat my family, but we all managed to eat a pretty healthy diet last week. If a healthy diet means bubble fluid for the kids, and coffee for the dog. At least they stayed far away from that quiche!
Thankfully we have a royal Hungarian vizsla living in our home, which brings our status as a family up a notch. If it wasn’t for the vizsla, we’d have the same reputation as the Hiltons. The Weiners. The Spitzers. The (shielding eyes), dare I say it…Lohans?
It was that kind of thinking that led me to the quiche. Desolation, despair. Here is the slab that I mentioned earlier. I bought it at Bouchon Bakery in midtown after a meeting was postponed by 2 hours, leaving me with an extra 2 hours in my day to console myself with food. I have never tasted quiche this good in my life. I would be totally fine if that wobbly goodness went straight to my thighs. Or underneath my chin. My kneecaps even. It was so beyond worth it. Ahhhh!!! Not worth it! Not worth it! Must fix now!
Fortunately there was a farmers’ market in the vicinity and I reversed course by picking up a few crates of fruit. Which are now attracting fruit flies on my counter because who can eat this much fruit in a week? Am I the only person who does this? I can’t go to a farmers’ marketing without buying bags of food. It’s an illness really.
Fortunately I know how to deal with an oversupply of fruit & veg. I just wiped off the fruit flies, threw the apricots on the grill, and ended up with a delicious 5-minute salad made from greens, vinaigrette, shredded chicken, the grilled fruit, and smoked ricotta salata. If you’re jealous of my lunch that day, you should be. It really was as good as it looks.
In keeping with the healthy eating trend (I repeat, “healthy” meaning not a big fat slab of quiche), we had Emma consuming mass quantities of ice pops….
…and Sam sampling his soap bubble mixture.
Lastly, Jack got to indulge in my morning coffee routine. “Here, you take my spot big guy, try the latte, it’s heavenly.” He was so thrilled about the offer that he wandered up on his hind legs, touched his nose to the cup, and gently licked the foam. Surprisingly, he was able to keep most of the milk out of his whiskers. Maybe he is royalty after all.