The kitchen isn’t quite yet restored. The pot rack went up Sunday, finally, and while it looks mostly complete (sans the microwave sitting in the middle of the floor), there’s surprisingly a lot missing. Our tea balls have yet to be discovered. For the time being our evening tea *gasp* must be standard tea bags rather than loose. Most of the pots have been found, though the colander is still MIA. I bought some yogurt the other day, but the fantastic granola we brought home from Vermont is yet to be found. It’s a work in progress. I’m hoping Sunday I’ll have lots of time to organize. My husband will be away playing Dungeons and Dragons (yes, he’s 30-something and still plays; if you don’t know what it is, trust me, it’s better) so I will have the day to myself. Writing, decorating and still unpacking.
Our diet has gradually shifted from 100% to about 50% takeout. I can’t tell you how much I crave normalcy. And the meals we do cook have been simple, though still creative. Tonight was my first attempt at fish tacos. Something I’ve loved for years (I can’t get enough from Ho’Brah a few blocks south), but never attempted on my own. In my eyes, a good taco is simply a complementary blend of things, wrapped together in a corn tortilla. Protein, acid, crunch, sweet and salt. And a little bit of heat is a given.