Beauty can be seductive.
Of this I was reminded during yesterday’s encounter with coffee art. As I
creepily creatively gazed into the motions of my morning J, the enchanting swirls beckoned me to take a sooner-than-usual sip. Curious to taste the talent in the midst of its performance, I obliged.
Coffee—even the most alluringly elegant cups—should never be consumed a mere 30 seconds after being brewed. Never.
My preemptive sip left me a scorned woman with a very burnt tongue. I sought out the quickest remedy I could think of, which came in the form of a heaping spoonful of vanilla bean ice cream.
Mucho mejor—still a little upset with my coquette of a coffee cup—but ready to take on breakfast.
I’d already decided on my main ingredient
el bran muffin. I love muffins (you know it’s coming… TWSS), but I am a discriminatory lover of only the tops. So my master plan was to crumble the toasted muffin top over plain greek yogurt, and perhaps jazz it up with a little PB.
Well, I had to abort breakfast Plan A when I realized this was all that was left in my greek yogurt container.
That, my friends, is a dollop (it weirdly looks like a lot in the picture, but I assure you it was a measly amount) , not the bountiful base required to craft my conjured up branny breakfast.
However, all thanks to the lingering taste of vanilla bean still cooling my wounded tongue, I came up with a better-than-Plan-A Plan B.
Muffin Top (the kind you eat, not the kind you get from eating) Ice Cream.
PB included. If you recall last weekend’s discovery that ice cream is an acceptable part of a healthy breakfast—for its calcium—I am happy to report that Ice Cream For Breakfast Part Dos supports that finding. For validity and accuracy purposes, I implore you all to test my hypothesis and report back .
I did make an effort to balance things out by throwing a few banana slices and cinnamon on my yogurt dollop for a breakfast dessert. A little backwards, but it worked.
I ate a light-ish lunch exactly 3 hours before yoga, in an attempt to avoid the nausea I felt during Wednesday’s class.
Egg white omelet with American, broccoli and roasted cherry toms. And, of course, sriracha.
I usually consider the cheesiest bites the best, but I sort of played favorites with the roasted cherry tomatoes during the consumption of this particular omelet.
Fast forward three hours. I’m supposed to be sitting in a 105 degree room, but my crazy body was somehow still ridiculously full from an omelet and half a pita. Loco.
That—followed by a pretty loud and painful hip pop—tore me away from my yoga streak. I was kind of cranky because I’ve been on a legitimate yoga high—but I didn’t feel like introducing my undigested omelet to a 105 degree room full of well-digested people just trying to get their yoga on.
As dinner came, crankiness went.
What appears to be a standard grilled chicken breast…
is actually grilled chicken stuffed with feta, oil-cured olives and sun-dried tomatoes.
Probably one of my favorite flavor combinations ever. You will learn that I’m mildly obsessed with both olives and sun-dried tomatoes. So, whenever they combine forces, I achieve a very distinct, unmatched level of elation.
Along for the ride: a few sweet potato fries (I may have burned the rest…) and olive oil & garlic couscous.
‘Twas a delicious dinner. And since I began my day with dessert, I called it my last meal .
I’m off to kick off the Jewish New Year—Rosh Hashanah—with la familia. A.K.A. Sunday’s weekend recap will feature some drool-worthy eats.
L’shana tova to any of you who are also celebrating the new year!