There was a giant snowstorm yesterday in Minneapolis and it covered us all in snow. I was helping at Sisters Camelot (an organic food shelf) and now I have a giant box of broccoli in my kitchen and no friggen clue what to do with it all.
Side note: I took the girls to the gym to play basketball and to feel slightly human, and we looked down on the locker room floor and there was piece of broccoli by Bella’s shoe. Don’t tell anyone but I think we are being stalked.
Another side note: tomorrow is going to be my last fiction workshop tomorrow with Shelia O'Connor and I wished my piece rocked but it doesn’t. It is okay. Maybe good but it doesn’t rock.
Maybe I will bring her broccoli.
Friday, February 27, 2009
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8 comments:
hhehheeeeheheeheeee.
xo
ps. the surfer likes this salad, mayo, raw broccoli, little squares of cheddar and peas or not. it sounds too simple but it's actually good if you chop up the broccoli.
Oops, forgot to make the link live.
Check out this recipe for The Best Broccoli of Your Life.
I've had it with kale and it's yumptious and moreish.
Am I the only person in the world that feels like Kale should NEVER be eaten? Everyone I know eats it but it feels more like fabric to me than food.
Ivy your recipe rocks, though I will blame you for not getting any writing done today and spending way too much time at that site.
I also have big giant Chilies that I have no idea what to do with, though I do now, thanks to google know how to roast them on my gas stove.
Rebecca, me dear, I am going to try your recipe for the mere fact that if the surfer will eat it, my girls might as least try it.
God, they might never eat broccoli again after this week.
Thanks women!
Broccoli by your daughter's show. Hmmm... Invasion of the Broccoli Snatchers?
(As a precaution, I recommend not falling asleep next to the broccoli.)
That'd make a helluva horror flick.
Children being chased down and devoured by giant vegetables.
My mother eats that same concoction Radish's surfer eats.
I like my broccoli plain. Steamed with nothing on it.
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