Week Three: The Story

So it turns out...when I have a crazy week of work, coupled with the insane ticket price of crowns these days, my culinary concoctions tend to get pushed to the proverbial, though in no way ironic, back burner.

Cooking with some a new ingredient was, I'll admit, a bit of a wash this week. While I've never actually COOKED with radishes before (Suuuuure I'll have them in salad or as crudites but baking or cooking with them? Naaaah), I have eaten them at least a couple of handful of times in my life, making me feel as though I've only kinda sorta maybe a teeny tiny itty bitty cheated with the whole non-resolution deal.

It was a hell of a week last week -- which I'm so using as an excuse -- so sue me. Although don't really; you won't get much. Really, just hold me accountable enough to push me to make something really awesome with wicked strange and new ingredients this next month. Deal? Deal.

Eh, anyway. Where was I?

Right. Baked radishes. The first attempt turned out...candied, for sure, but not quite as baked as I would have liked. Sliced, cleaned and doused in a hearty coating of cinnamon-sugary goodness, the radish slices ended up caramelizing and hardening on the outside (Duh) but staying soft on the inside. While the flavor of the fresh root and sweet sugar created this heavenly aromatic earthy candy flavor, the texture of the hardened sugar didn't fly too well against the gooey inside. It's like one of those candies that has a great flavor but texture that kind of makes you wonder, by the time you swallowed it, why you let your tongue and mouth suffer that awkward texture metamorphosis.

Round two of radishes just happened (Pictures to be added soon). THIS time around I went without the sugary goodness (I had a weekend of baked good extravaganza-ness), instead baking the radishes THEN sifting them a shake of garlic salt, for a crunchy, tangy, earthy chip that's going to be hard pressed to see its way to Tuesday.

So this is what it's like to be high

I am pretty damn blitzed right now. While I'm not out of my mind baked right now (Hey, I can produce a blog post after all), I'm definitely baked enough that, were you to prick me with a toothpick to test my doneness, I'd leave but a few gooey marks of still-raw batter, indicating that I still need a bit more oven time. Still, I'm definitely stoned enough that, as much as I tried to hide it during the last few hours of my 7 1/2 hour day at Pottery Barn, I showed classic signs of dopey aloofness. As if I need the proof, here's a conversation I had over Facebook chat with a manager:

Kurtis: How are you feeling lady?

Me: Oh fine and dandy. I left 1/2 an hour early cause i was, well, you know, stoned.

Kurtis: Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? You were stoned? Couldn't tell.

Me: duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude I know. Not good. Not good at all. I feel all funny like I'm at Candy Mountain.

Kurtis: you ARE at Candy Mountain!

The sad thing is that Kurtis is probably right. I am, thanks to the eight bottles of pain pills -- both OTC and prescription (which aren't my prescriptions but hey, what are you going to do when the doctor won't get back to you?) -- and antihistamines (drugs makes me itchy), definitely on Candy Mountain: a magical place with talking unicorns that doesn't really make sense to anyone unless you have a weird sense of ridiculous humor or, as in my case, are high.

Of course, anyone who knows me knows that I've never danced with Mary Jane and don't really ever plan to. It's just not my thing and well, I'll leave it at that (Again for those who know me, you get what I'm talking about). Regardless of my stance on pot, I think that I have some kind of idea what its like to be stoned. Mainly because, ever since about three pm today, I've been loopy and relaxed while giggling at the most ridiculous things (Ahem, Charlie and Candy Mountain) and yearning for foods like chocolate chip cookies and tacos.

And muffins.

And Mike and Ikes.

Oooh -- and a tuna melt. I don't even like tuna melts; the thought of canned tuna mixed with mayo sitting next to a slab of melted cheese on buttery bread is actually pretty nauseating...but still sounds so damn good.

What was I talking about? Yes, being high. I've been pretty A-D-D all day today, unable to concentrate on simple tasks like finding a pillow for a guest or reading a full article in the Sunday paper. My attention span is thus next to nothing (hence the reason why this post has taken me over four hours to write) as is my short term memory (I failed greatly trying to tell a friend tonight what I did during my day yesterday and how my day  today at work was).

But, for the first time in a while, I feel totally at peace; all at once relaxed, soothed and happy. It's a feeling I could get used to.