Patience

I would just like to say that giving me an assignment to keep a food diary is a recipe for disaster. Our task for my Food in American History class is to write down a brief description of everything we eat and drink, including how, where, and with whom we consume those items, for five consecutive days. Once we turn in our diaries, our professor will remove our names from the documents and redistribute them to other members of the class, who will then have the task of analyzing our eating habits. Seeing as how I have the tendency to air on the side of the verbose and flowery, I secretly pity the classmate who has to comb through eight or so pages of my descriptions of the berries dipped in melted chocolate I ate hunched over the stove on Monday, waiting for my beet bundt cake to cool. Or how most of the things I eat receive a generous sprinkling of sea salt and not-too-few grinds of the ol' pepper mill. And what is it with my affinity for Throat Coat tea, drinking several cups a day parked at my kitchen table rifling through my readings for the week? I can only hope that whoever receives my diary is sympathetic to my modest aspirations in food writing, and cuts me some slack for my propensity to go on a little too long about my love for wildflower honey and fried eggs on toast.

I have photos (!) for my next post, but now sleep beckons. Due to a rather unfortunate mishap, my CSA box was not delivered to my house yesterday but was instead dropped off at People's Food Co-Op, which means I have to take a special (read: frustrating) bus ride over there to retrieve it before work in the Admission Office. I will be sure to update with all its glorious contents, and I also have much to say about beet bundt cake, bagels, and candied walnuts, so please, dear reader, stay with me.